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AS RIGHT GUARD, JANE PROVED HERSELF WORTHY OF THE 

POSITION. 
Jane Allen: Right Guard. Page 225. 



Jane Allen: 

Right Guard 



By 

Edith Bancroft 

Author of 
Jane Allen of the Sub-Team 



Illustrated by 

R. Emmett Owen 



New York 
Cupples &P Leon Company 

1 ' NAS 



THE NEW TORI 
PUBLIC LIBRARY 

108557B 

ASTOn. LENOX AND 
TILDLN FOrADAIlOJii 



JANE ALLEN SERIES 


By EDITH BANCROFT 




JANE ALLEN OF THE SUB-TEAM 
JANE ALLEN: RIGHT GUARD 

Other Volumes in preparation 


CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, New York 



COPYSIGHT, I918, BY 

CuFPLES & Leon Company 



Jane Allen: Right Guard 



CONTENTS 



CHAFTEB PAiGB 

. I Day Dbeahs 1 

II A Council op Wab 11 

m Bad News 17 

IV Thb Season Why 27 

V The Unknown MiSGHiEir Makes 34 

VI The Plot Thickens 42 

Vn An Unpleasant Tablemate ,. 51 

Vni A Happy Thought 63 

IX Seekers OF Discord. 72 

X A Vague Regret 82 

XI Bejected Cavaliebs 91 

Xn Norma 's Find 101 

Xin The Explanation Ill 

XIV Openly and Aboyeboard 122 

XV The Reckoning 132 

XVI Playing Cavalieb 140 

XVn The Eavesdropper 151 

V 



vi CONTENTS 



CHAPTER PAGE 

XVIir Dividing the Honors 157 

XIX Rank Injustice 167 

XX The Rise op the Freshman Team 182 

XXI Reinstatement 197 

XXII Making Other People Happy 210 

XXIII A New Friend 224 

XXIV The Listener 241 

XXV The Accusation 258 

XXVI The Star Witness 273 

XXVII Conclusion 299 



Jane Allen 

Right Guard 

CHAPTER I 

BAY DKEAMS 

••^'^ OMEoatofyourdaydream^ Janie, and 
I . guess what I have for you/' 
^^■^ Hands behind him, Henry Allen 
stood looking amusedly down at his daughter. 

Stretched full length in a gaily striped ham- 
mock swung betweei^ two great trees, her gray 
eyes dreamily turned toward the distant moun- 
tain peaks, Jane Allen had not heard her father's 
noiseless approach over the closely clipped green 
lawn. 

At sound of his voice, she bobbed up from the 
hammock with an alacrity that left it swaying 
wildly. 
"Of course I was dreaming. Dad," she declared 



JANE ALLEN 



gaily, making an ineffectual grab at the hands he 
held behind him. 

"No fair using force," he warned, dexterously 
eluding her. "This is a guessing contest. Now 
which hand will you choose?" 

"Both hands, you mean thing I" laughed Jane. 
"I know what you have in one of them. It's a 
letter. Maybe two. Now stand and deliver." 

"Here you are." 

Obligingly obeying the imperative command, 
Mr. Allen handed Jane two letters. 

"Oh, joyl Here you are!" 

Jane enveloped her father in a bear-like hug, 
planting a resounding kiss on his sun-burnt 
cheek. 

"Having played postman, I suppose my next 
duty is to take myself off and leave my girl to her 
letters," was his affectionately smiling comment. 

"Not a bit of it. Dad. I'm dying to read these 
lettCTS. They're from Judith Steams and Adri- 
enne Dupree. But even they must wait a little. 
I want to talk to '^&iij my ownest Dad. Come 
and sit4)eside me on that bench." 

Slipping her arm within her father's, Jane 
gently towed him to a quaint rustic seat under a 
magnificent, wide-spreading oak. 

"Be seated," she plajrf uUy ordered. 



RIGHT GUARD 



Next instant she was beside him on the bench, 
her russet head against his broad shoulder. 

"Well, girl of mine, what is it? You're not 
going to tell me, I hope, that you don't want to 
go back to college." 

Henry Allen humorously referred to another 
sunlit morning oveii a year ago when Jane had 
corralled him for a private talk that had been in 
the nature of a burst of passionate protest against 
going to coUege. 

"It's just a year ago yesterday, Dad," Jane 
returned soberly. "What a horrid person I was 
to make a fuss and spoil my birthday. But I 
was only sixteen, then. I'm seventeen years and 
one day old now. I'm ever so much wiser. It's 
funny but that is really what I wanted to talk to 
you about. Going back to WeUington, I mean. 
I want to go this time. Truly, I do." 

"I know it, Janie. I was only teasing you." 

Henry Allen smiled down very tenderly at his 
pretty daughter. 

"Of course you were," nq^^jljed Jane. "I knew, 
though, that you were thinking about last year, 
when I behaved like a savage. I was thinking 
of it, too, as I lay in the hammock looking ojff to- 
ward the mountains. Dear old Capitan never 
seemed so wonderful as it does to-day. Yet some- 



7ANE ALLEN 



how, it doesn't hurt me to think of leaving it for 
a while. 

"'Last year I felt as though I was being torn 
up fey the roots. This year I feel all comfy and 
contented and only a little bit sad. The sad part 
is leaving you and Aunt Mary. Still I'm glad to 
go back to Wellington. It's as though I had two 
homes. I wanted to tell you about it, Dad. To 
let you know that this year I'm going to try 
harder than ever to be a good pioneer." 

Raising her head, Jane suddenly sat very 
straight on the bench, her gray eyes alive with 
resolution. 

"You don't need to teU me that, Janie." H«p 
father took one ol Jane's slender white hands be- 
tween his own strong brown ones. "You showed 
yourself a real pioneer freshman. They say the 
freshman year's always the hardest. I know mine 
was at Atherton. I was a poor boy, you know, 
and had to fight my way. Things were rather 
diflFerent then, though. There is more comrade- 
ship and less snobbishness in college than there 
used to be. That is, in coUeges for boys. You're 
better posted than your old Dad about what they 
do and are in girls' colleges," he finished humor- 
ously. 

"Oh, there are a few snobs at Wellington." 



RIGHT GUARD 



An unbidden frown rose to Jane's smooth fore- 
head, lilef erence to snobbery brought up a vision 
of Marian Seaton's arrogant, self-satisfied fea- 
tures. 

"Most of the girls are splendid, though/' she 
added, brightening. "You know how much I 
care for Judy, my room-mate, and, oh, lots of 
others at Wellington. There's Dorothy Martin, 
in particular. She stands for all that is finest and 
best You remember I Ve told you that she looks 
like Dearest." 

Jane's voice dropped on the last word. Silence 
fell upon the two as each thought of the beloved 
dead. 

"Dad, you don't know how much it helped me 
last year in college to have Dearest's picture with 
me," Jane finally said. "It was almost as if she 
were right there with me, her own self, and under- 
stood eversrthing. I've never told you before, 
but there were a good many times when things 
went all wrong for me. There were some days 
when it seemed to me that I didn't want to try to 
be a pioneer. I wanted to pull up stakes and run 
away. I sha'n't feel that way this year. It will 
be so different. I'll walk into Madison Hall and 
be at home there from the start. I'll have friends 
there to welcome " 



JANE ALLEN 



Jane's confidences were suddenly interrupted 
by the appearance of Pedro, the groom, leading 
Donabar, Mr. Allen's horse, along the drive. 

*Tve got to leave you, girl." Mr. Allen rose. 
''I've an appointment with Gleason, to look at 
some cattle he wants to sell me. I'll see you at 
dinner to-night. Probably not before then." 

With a hasty kiss, dropped on the top of Jane's 
curly head, her father strode across the lawn to 
his horse. Swinging into the saddle, he was off 
down the drive, turning only to wave farewell to 
the white-clad girl on the beach. Left alone, 
Jane turned her attention to her letters. 

Those who have read "Jane Allen of the 
Sub-Team" will remember how bitterly Jane 
Allen resented leaving her beautiful Western 
home to go East to Wellington College. 
Brought up on a ranch, Jane had known few 
girls of her own age. To be thus sent away from 
all she loved best and forced to endure the restric- 
tions of a girls' college was a cross which proud 
Jane carried during the early part of her fresh- 
man year at Wellington. 

Gradually growing to like the girls she had 
formerly despised, Jane f oimd friends, tried and 
true. Being a person of strong character she also 
made en^nies, among them arrogant, snobbish 



RIGHT GUARD 



Marian Seaton, a freshman of narrow soul and 
small honor. 

Due to her interest in hasket-hall, Jane soon 
found herself fighting hard to win a position on 
the freshman team. She also foimd herself en- 
gaged in a desperate struggle to rule her own re- 
bellious spirit. How she won the right to play in 
the deciding game of the year, because of her high 
resolve to be true to herself, has already been 
recorded in her doings as a freshman at Welling- 
ton CoUege. 

"You first, Judy,*' murmured Jane, as she tore 
open the envelope containing Judith's letter and 
eagerly drew it forth. 

She smiled as she unfolded the one closely writ- 
ten sheet of thin, gray paper. Judith never wrote 
at length. The smile deepened as she read: 

"Deab Ou) Jane: 

"It's about time I answered your last let- 
ter. I hope to goodness this reaches you be- 
fore you start East. Then you'U know I love 
you even if I am not a lightning correspond- 
esA. I just came home from the beach 
yesterday. I had a wonderful summer, but 
I'm tanned a beautiful brown. I am prepar- 
ing you beforehand so that you will not 



8 JANE ALLEN 

mistake me for a noble red man^ red woman, 
I mean, when you see me, 

"I'm dying to see my faithful room-mate 
and talk my head off. I shall bring a whole 
bunch of eats along with me to Wellington 
and we'll have a grand celebration. Any 
small contributions which you may feel it 
your duty to drag along will be thankfully 
received. I'm going to start for college a 
week from next Tuesday. I suppose I'll be 
there ahead of you, so I'll have everything 
fixed up comfy when you poke your distin- 
guished head, in the door of our room. 

"I've loads of things to teU you, but I can't 
write them. You know how I love (not) to 
write letters, themes, etc. You'll just have 
to wait imtil we get together. If this letter 
shouldn't reach you before you leave El 
Capitan, you will probably get it some day 
after it has traveled around the country for 
a while. Won't that be nice ? 

"With much love, hoping to see you soony 

soon, "^''.-U 

"[Your affectionate room-i)Qf.t^ 

Jane laughed outright as she re-read the letter. 



RIGHT GUARD 



It was so exactly like good-humored Judy 
Steams. She did not douht that she was destined 
presently to hear at least one funny tale from 
Judith*s lips concerning the latter's pet failing, 
absent-mindedness. 

Picking up Adrienne's letter from the bench, 
Jane found equal amusement in the little French 
girl's quaint phraseology. 

**WiCKED One:'^ it began. **Why have 
you not answered the fond letter of your 
small Imp? But perhaps you have an- 
swered, and I have not received. Ma mbre 
and I have had the great annoyance since 
we came to this most stupid studio, because 
much of our mail has gone astray. 

"We have finished the posing for the pic- 
ture *The Spirit of the Dawn.' It was most 
beautiful. Ma mdre was, of course, the 
Dawn Spirit, allowed for one day to become 
the mortal. She had many dances to per- 
form, and was superb in all. I, tcx), had 
the dance to do in several scenes. When we 
meet in college I will tell you all. 

""We shall not pose again in these motion 
pictures for the directors are, of a truth, 
most queer. They talk much, but have the 



;^ lo JANE ALLEN 

> '■■'''■■ 

^. ' small idea of art. It became necessary to 

quarrel with them frequently, otherwise 
the picture would have contained many ridic- 
ulous things. It is now past, and, of a cer- 
tainty, I am glad. I am longing to make the 
return to Wellington. It will be the grand 
happiness to see again all my dear friends, 
you in particular, beloved Jeanne. 

'Xa petite Norma will soon finish the en- 
gagement with the stock company. We have 
the hope to meet her in New York, so that 
she and your small Imp may make the return 
together to Wellington. Take the good care 
of yourself, dear Jeanne. With the regards 
of ma mtre and my most ardent affection, 

"Ever thy Imp." 

Jane gave the letter an affectionate little pat. 
It was almost as though she had heard lively little 
Adrienne's voice. How good it was, she reflected 
happily, to know that this time she would go 
East, not as a lonely outlander, but as one whose 
place awaited her. There would be smiling faces 
and welcoming hands to greet her when she 
climbed the steps of Madison Hall. Yes, Wel- 
lington was truly her Alma Mater and Madison 
Hall her second home. 



CHAPTER II 

A COUNCIL OF WAE 

^^W THAT does it all mean? That's the 

^^ one thing I'd like to know/' 

Judith Steams plumped herself 
down on Ethel Laeey's couch bed with an energy 
that bespoke her feelings, 

"It is as yet beyond the imderstanding," gloom- 
ily conceded Adrienne Dupree, 

"You'd better go downstairs and see Mrs. 
Weatherbee at once, Judy," advised Ethel. 

It was a most amazed and indignant trio which 
had gathered for a council of war in the room be- 
longing to Ethel and Adrienne. 

"I'm going to," nodded Judith with some as- 
perity. "I have Jane's telegram here with me. I 
just stopped for a minute to tell you girls. Why, 
Jane will be in on that four o'clock train 1 A nice 
tale we'll have to teU herl" 

ZI 



12 JANE ALLEN 

"Oh, there's surely been a misunderstanding," 
repeated Ethel Lacey, 

Judith shrugged her shoulders. 

"It looks queer to me," she said. "You know 
Mrs. Weatherbee never liked Jane. It would be 
just like her " 

Judith paused. A significant stare conveyed 
untold meaning. 

"She couldn't do anything so imfair and get 
away with it," reasoned Ethel. "Jane could take 
up the matter with Miss Howard and make a big 
fuss about it." 

"She could, but would she?" demanded Judith 
savagely. "You know how proud Jane is. She'd 
die before she'd give Mrs. Weatherbee the satis- 
faction of seeing she was hurt over it. She '* 

"Oh, what's the use in speculating?" inter- 
rupted Ethel. "Gro and find out, Judy. We're 
probably making much ado about nothing." 

"It is I who will go with you," announced Ad- 
rienne decidedly. "I am also the dear friend of 
Jane." 

"Let's all go," proposed Judith. "There's 
strength in numbers. If Mrs. Weatherbee hasn't 
been fair to Jane it will bother her a whole lot to 
have three of us take it up." 

Adrienne and Ethel concurring in this opinion,. 



RIGHT GUARD 13 

the three girls promptly marched themselves 
downstairs to the matron's office to inquire into 
the matter which had aroused them to take action 
in Jane Allen's behalf. 

Ten minutes later they retired from an inter- 
view with Mrs. Weatherbee, more amazed than 
when they had entered the matron's office. They 
were also proportionately incensed at the recep- 
tion with which they had met. 

"I think she's too hateful for words f " sputtered 
Judith, the moment the committee of inquiry had 
again shut themselves in Ethel's room. 

"She might have explained," was Ethel's indig- 
nant cry. "I don't believe that Jane's not coming 
back to Madison Hall." 

"Jane is coming back to Madison Hall," as- 
serted Judith positively. "She said so in her last 
letter to me. That is, she spoke of our room and 
alL If she hadn't intended coming back, she'd 
have said something about it." 

"Of a truth she intended to return to this 
Hall," coincided Adrienne. "This most hateful 
Mrs. Weatherbee has perhaps decided thus for 
herself. Would it not be the humiliating thing 
for our pauvre Jeatme to return and be refused 
the admittance?" 

"That won't happen," decreed Judith grimly. 



14 JANE ALLEN 

"We're going to Ihe train to meet her, you know. 
We'U have to tell her the minute she sets foot on 
the station platform/' 

"But suppose we find that it's true?" pro- 
pounded EtheL "That she doesn't intend to live 
at the Hall this year? Something might have 
happened after she wrote you girls to make her 
change her mind." 

"There's only one thing that I know of and 
I'd hate to think it was that/' returned Judith 
soberly. "You know what I mean, that Jane 
mightn't care to room with me/' 

"That is the nonsense/' disagreed Adrienne 
sturdily. "We, who know Jane, know that it 
could never be thus. But wait, only wait. We 
shall, no doubt, prove this Mrs. Weatherbee to 
be the g-r-rand villain." 

Adrienne's roU of r's, coupled with her surmise 
as to the disagreeable matron's villainy, provoked 
instant mirth. 

Downhearted as she was, Judith could not re- 
frain from giggling a little as her quick imagina- 
tion visualized in stately, white-haired Mrs. 
Weatherbee the approved stage villain. 

"We'll just have to wait and see," declared 
placid Ethel. "It's after two now. Let's take 
a bus into Chesterford and see the sights until 



RIGHT GUARD 15 

train time. We'll be on pins and needles every 
minute if we sit around here." 

"'I'm going without a hat. I just can't bear 
to go back to my room tofr one. I guess you know 
why," shrugged Judith. 

^'It is the great shame/' sympathized Adrienne. 
**I am indeed sad that our Dorothy has not re- 
turned. She could perhaps learn from Mrs. 
Weatherbee what we cannot." 

"I wish Dorothy were here," sighed Judith. 
**A lot of the girls haven't come back yet. I 
thought I'd be late, but I'm here early after alL 
Too bad Norma couldn't come on from New 
york with you." 

"It was most sad." Adrienne rolled her big 
black eyes. "She has yet one more week with the 
stock company. La petite has done well. ' She 
has received many excellent notices. Next sum- 
mer she will no doubt be the leading woman. She 
has the heaven-sent talent, even as ma mhre^ 

"Alicia Reynolds is back," announced Judith. 
"I met her coming in with her luggage about an 
hour ago. She was awfully cordial to me. That 
means she's still of the same mind as when she left 
Wellington last June. She's really a very nice 
girl. I only hope she stays away from Marian 
Seaton." 



i6 JANE ALLEN 

"Neither Marian nor Mazie Gilbert have come 
back yet. I wish they'd stay away," came venge- 
fuUy from Ethel. "With Alicia and Edith Ham- 
mond both on their good behavior Madison Hall 
would get along swimmingly without those two 
disturbers." 

"They'll probably keep to themselves this 
year," commented Judith grimly. "It's pretty 
well known here how badly they treated Jane 
last year and how splendidly she carried herself 
through it all." 

"Oh, the old girls at the Hall won't bother with 
them, but some of the new girls may," Ethel re- 
marked. "We're to have several new ones." 

"There'll be one less new girl if I have anything 
to say about it," vowed Judith. "If there's been 
any imfaimess done, little Judy will take a 
prompt hike over to see Miss Rutledge." 

"Jane wouldn't like that," demurred Ethel. 

"Can't help it. I'd just have to do it," Judith 
made obstinate reply. "As Jane's room-mate I 
think I've a case of my own. If Jane has chosen 
to room somewhere else — ^then, all right. But if 
she hasn't — ^if she's been treated shabbily, — ^as I 
believe she has been — ^then I'U go wherever she 
goes, even if I have to live in a house away oflF the 
campus." 



CHAPTER III 

BAD NEWS 

•• y"^K H, girls, it's good to be back T* 
i 1 Surrounded by a welcoming trio of 
^^•^ white-gowned girls, Jane Allen clung 
affectionately to them. 

All along the station platform, bevies of merry- 
faced, daintily dressed young women were en- 
gaged in the joyful occupation of greeting class- 
mates who had arrived on the four o'clock train. 
Here and there, committees of upper class girls 
were extending friendly hands to timid freshmen 
just set down in the outskirts of the land of col- 
lege. 

Stepping down from the train Jane had been 
instantly seized by her energetic chums and 
smothered in a triangular embrace. A mist had 
risen to her gray eyes at the warmth of the wel- 
come. She was, indeed, no longer the lonely out- 

X7 



^8 JANE ALLEN 

lander. It was all so different from last year and 
so delightful. 

"It's good to have you back, perfectly dear 
old Jane!" emphasized Judith, giving Jane an 
extra hug to measure her joy at sight of the girl 
she adored. 

"What happinei^s!" gurgled Adrienne. "We 
had the g-r-r-r-eat anxiety for fear that you 
would perhaps not come on this train." 

"Oh, I telegraphed Judy from St. Louis on 
a venture," laughed Jane. "I knew she'd be here 
ahead of me." 

"Then you did receive my letter," Judith said 
with satisfaction. "I was afraid you mightn't." 

"I didn't answer it because I was coming East 
so soon," apologized Jane. "I took your advice, 
though, about the eats. There was a stop over at 
St. Louis, so I went out and bought a suitcase 
full of boxed stuff . Maybe it isn't heavy I Well 
have a great spread in our room to-night. Who's 
back, Judy? Have you seen Christine Ellis or 
Barbara Temple yet? Is Mary Ashton here? I 
know Dorothy isn't or she'd be here with you." 

As Jane rattled off these lively remarks, her 
three friends exchanged significant eye messages. 

"Then — ^why — ^you " stammered Judith, a 

swift flush rising to her cheeks. 



RIGHT GUARD 19 

"What's the matter, Judy?'* 

Jane regarded her room-mate in puzzled fash- 
ion. She wondered at Judith's evident confusion. 

"Nothing much. I mean something rather 
queer." Judith contradicted herself. "Let's take 
a taxi, girls, and stop at Rutherford Inn for tea. 
We can talk there." 

"But why not go straight to Madison Hall?" 
queried Jane, in growing perplexity. "I'm 
anxious to get rid of some of the smoke and dust 
Fve collected on my face and hands. We can 
haye tea and talk in our own room and be all by 
ourselves." 

"I wish we could, Jane, but we must have a talk 
with you before you go to the Hall," returned 
Judith, her merry features now grown grave. 

"What is it, Judy?" 

All the brightness had faded from Jane's face. 
Her famous scowl now darkened her brow. She 
cast a quick glance from Adrienne to Ethel. 
Both girls looked unduly solemn. 

"Girls, you're keeping something from me; 
something unpleasant, pf course," Jane accused. 
"I must know what it is. Please tell me. Don't 
be afraid of hurting my feelings." 

**We*re going to tell you, Jane," Judith said 
reassuringly. "Only we didn't want to say a 



20 JANE ALLEN 

word until — unta we found out something. But 
this isn't the place to talk. Let's hail the taxi, 
anyway. Then he can stop at the Inn or not, just 
as you please. We'll tell you on the way there.'* 

"All right." 

Almost mechanically Jane reached down to 
pick up the suitcase she had placed on the station 
platform in the first moment of reunion. All the 
pleasure of coming back to Wellington had been 
replaced by a sense of deep depression. In spite 
of the presence of her chums she felt now as she 
had formerly felt when just a year before she had 
stood on that same platform, hating with all her 
sore heart its group of laughing, chatting girls. 

"Do not look so cross, cherie'' Adrienne had 
slipped a soft hand into Jane's arm. "All will yet 
be well. Come, I, your Imp, will lead you to tiie 
taxicab." 

"And I'll help do the leading," declared Judith 
gaily, taking hold of Jane's free arm. "Ethel, 
you can walk behind and carry Jane's traveling 
bag. That will be some little honor." 

Knowing precisely how Jane felt, Judith af- 
fected a cheeriness she was far from feeling. 
She heartily wished that she had not been obliged 
to say a word to rob her room-mate of the first 
joy of meeting. 



mCHT GUARD zi 

While traversing the few yards that lay be- • 
tween the station and the point behind it where 
several taxieabs waited, both she and Adrienne 
chattered lively commonplaces. Jane, however, 
had little to say. She was experiencing the dazed 
sensation of one who has received an miexpected 
slap in the face. 

"What had happened? Why had Judy in- 
sisted that they must have a talk before going on 
to the Hall? Surely some very unpleasant news 
lay in wait for her ears. But what? Jane had 
not the remotest idea. 

"Now, Judy," she began with brusque direct- 
ness the instant the quartette were seated in the 
taxicab, "don't keep me in the dark any longer. 
You must know how — what a queer feeling all 
this has given me." 

Seated in the tonneau of the automobile, be- 
tween Adrienne and Judith, Jane turned hurt 
eyes on the latter. 

"Jane," began Judith impressively, "before 
you went home last year did you arrange with 
Mrs. Weatherbee about your room for this 
year?" 

''Why, yes." 

A flash of amazement crossed Jane's face. 

"Of course I did," she went on. "Mrs. Weath- 



22 JANE ALLEN 



bee understood that I was coming back to Madi-* 
son HaU/' 

"Humphr ejaculated Judith. ''Well, there's 
just this much about it, Jane. About nine o'clock 
this morning a little, black-eyed scrap of a f resh-* 
man marched into my room and said Mrs. Weath- 
erbee had assigned her to the other half of my 
room. I told her she had made a mistake and 
come to the wrong room. She said *no/ that Mrs. 
Weatherbee had sent the maid to the door with 
her to show her the way." 

**Why, Judy, I don't see how ^" began 

Jane, Ihen suddenly broke off with, '^Go on and 
tell me the rest." 

"I didn't like this girl for a cent. Her name 
is Noble, but it doesn't fit her. She has one of 
those prying, detestable faces, thin, with a sharp 
chin, and she hates to look one straight in the 
face," continued Judith disgustedly. "I went 
over to see Adrienne and Ethel and told them. 
Th^i we all went downstairs to interview Mrs. 
Weatherbee. She said you weren't coming bade 
to Madison Hall this year." 

'"Not coming back to Madison Hall!" ex- 
claimed Jane, her scowl now in fiercq evid^ice. 
"Did she say it in just those words?" 

"She certainly dki," responded Judi1;h. "I 



RIGHT GUARD 23 

told her that I was siirel that you were and she 
simply froze up and gave me one of those Arctic- 
circle stares. All she said was, 'I am surprised 
at you. Miss Steams. I am not in the habit of 
making incorrect statements.' Adrienne started 
to ask her when you had given up your room and 
she cut her off with: 'Toung ladies, the subject is 
dosed.' So that's all we know about it, and I 
guess you don't know any more of it than we 
do." 

"So that was why you didn't want me to go on 
to the Hall until I knew," Jane said slowly. 
^'Well, I know now, and I'm going straight there. 
Mrs. Weatherbee has never liked me. Still it's 
a rather high-handed proceeding on her part, I 
think." 

"If she did it of her own accord, I don't see how 
idle dared. I'm not going to stand for it. That's 
all," burst out Judith hotly. "Miss Howard 
won't either. As registrar she'll have something 
to say, I guess. If she doesn't, then on to Miss 
Rutledge. That's going to be my motto. I won't 
have that girl in your place, Jane. I wcm'W 

"I won't let her stay there if I can help it," 
was Jane's decided answer. "I'd rather the affair 
would be between Mrs. Weatherbee and me,, 
liiough. If she has done this iroai prejudice, I'll 



£4 JANE ALLEN 

fight for my rights. It won't be the first time she 
and I have had words. It seems hard to believe 
that a woman of her age and position eould be so 
contemptible." 

"That's what I thought," agreed Judith. 
"Well, we'll soon know. Here we are at the edge 
of the campus. Doesn't old Wellington look fine, 
though, Jane?" 

Jane merely nodded. She could not trust her- 
self to speak. The gently rolling green of the 
wide campus had suddenly burst upon her view. 
Back among the trees, Wellington Hall lifted its 
massive gray pile, lording it in splendid grandeur 
over the buildings of lesser magnitude that dotted 
the living green. 

She had longed for a sight of it all. It was as 
though she had suddenly come upon a dear friend. 
For a moment the perplexities of the situation, 
confronting her faded away as her gray eyes wan- 
dered from one familiar point on the campus to 
another. 

"It's wonderful, Judy," she said softly, her 
tones quite steady. "Even with this horrid tangle 
staring me in the face I can't help being glad to 
see Wellington again. Somehow, I can't help 
feeling that there's been a mistake made. I don't 
want to pass through the gates of Wellington 



RIGHT GUARD 25 

with my heart full of distrust of anyone." 

"You're a dear, Jane I" was Judith's impulsive 
tribute. "Adrienne says Mrs. Weatherbee may 
turn out to be *the grand villain.' Let's hope she 
won't. Anyway, if things can't be adjusted, 
wherever you go to live I'll go, too. I won't 
stay at the Hall without you." 

"Thank you, Judy." Jane found Judith's 
hand and squeezed it hard. She had inwardly de- 
termined, however, that her room-mate should 
not make any such sacrifice. It would be hard 
to find a room anywhere on the campus to take 
the place of the one the two had occupied at Madi- 
son Hall during their freshman year. 

"I'm glad there's no one on the veranda," pres- 
ently commented Jane. 

Having dismissed the taxicab, the three girls 
were now ascending the steps of the HalL 

"Better wait here for me, girls, I'd rather have 
it out with Mrs. Weatherbee alone," she coun- 
seled. "I hope I sha'n't lose my temper," she 
added ruefully. 

Mentally bracing herself for the interview, 
Jane crossed the threshold of the Hall and walked 
serenely past the living-room to the matron's of- 
fice just behind it. She was keeping a tight grip 
on herself and intended to keep it, if possible. 



26 JANE ALLEN 

She knew from past experience how greatly Mrs. 
Weatherbee's calm superiority of manner had 
been wont to irritate her. 

Jane loathed the idea of having a dispute with 
the matron the moment she entered Madison 
HalL She had begun the first day of her fresh- 
man year in such fashion. Afterward it had 
seemed to her that most of the others had been 
stormy, as a consequence of a wrong start. 

She reflected as she walked slowly down the 
hall that this new trouble, was, at least, not of 
her making. She had the comforting knowledge 
that this time she was not at fault. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE SEASON WH7 

PRIMED f qjr the momentous interview, 
Jane was doomed to disappointment. 
The matron's office was empty of its usual 
occupant. 

''Oh, bother!" was her impatient exclamation. 
"I'll either have to wait for her or go and find 
her. I'll go back to the veranda and tell the 
girls/' she decided. "Then I'll come here again. 
Mrs. Weatherbee may not be in the Hall for all 
I know." 

"Back so soon. What did she say?" 

Judith sprang eagerly from the wicker chair 
in which she had been lounging. 

"She is not there," returned Jane with a 
shadow of a frown. "I'm sorry. I wanted to 
see her and get it over with. Where's Ethel?" 

"Oh, she forgot that she had an appointment 



28 JANE ALLEN 



with Miss Howard. She rushed off in a hurry." 

"Mrs. Weatherbee has perhaps gone to make 
the call," suggested Adrienne. "Why do you 
not ring the bell and thus summon the maid?" 

"A good idea." 

Standing near the door, Jane's fingers found 
the electric bell and pressed it. 

"Where is Mrs. Weatherbee?" she inquired of 
the maid who presently came to answer the door. 
"Isn't Millie here any more?" she added, noting 
that a stranger occupied the place of the good- 
natured girl who had been at the Hall during 
Jane's freshman year. 

"No, miss. She's gone and got married. Did 
you want Mrs. Weatherbee? She's upstairs* 
I'll go and find her for you." 

"Thank you. If you will be so kind. Please 
tell her Miss Allen wishes to see her." 

Disturbed in mind, though she was, Jane re- 
plied with a graciousness she never forgot to em- 
ploy in speaking to those in more humble cir- 
cumstances than herself. It was a part of the 
creed her democratic father had taught her and 
she tried to hve up to it. 

"Wish me luck, girls, I'm going to my fate. 
Wait for me," she said lightly and vanished into 
the house. 



RIGHT GUARD 29 

"She's taking it like a brick/' Judith admir- 
ingly commented. 

"Ah, yes. Jane is what mon pire would call 
*the good sport/ " agreed Adrienne. "She is the 
strange girl; sometimes fierce like the lion over 
the small troubles. When come the great mis- 
fortunes she has calm courage/' 

Re-entering Mrs. Weatherbee's office, Jane 
seated herself resignedly to wait for the appear- 
ance of the matron. When fifteen mmutes had 
passed and she was still waiting, the stock of 
"calm courage" attributed to her by Adrienne, 
began to dwindle into nettled impatience. 

She now wished that she had not given her 
name to the maid. It looked as if Mrs. 
Weatherbee were purposely keeping her waiting. 
This thought stirred afresh in Jane the old 
antagonism that the matron had always 
aroused. 

After half an hour had dragged by Jane heard 
footsteps descending the stairs to the accompani- 
ment of the faint rustle of silken skirts. She sat 
suddenly very straight in her chair, her mood 
anything but lamb-like. 

'"Grood afternoon, Miss Allen/' greeted a cool 
voice. 

Mrs. Weatherbee rustled into the little office. 



30 JANE ALLEN 

injured dignity written on every feature of her 
austere face. 

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Weatherbee." 

Courtesy to an older woman prompted Jane to 
rise. Her tone, however, was one of strained 
politeness. There was no move made toward 
handshaking by either. 

"I was greatly surprised to learn that you 
wished to see me, Miss Allen," was the matron's 
first remark after seating herself in the chair be- 
fore her writing desk. 

Mrs. Weatherbee's intonations were decidedly 
accusing. Jane colored at the emphasis placed 
on the "you.** 

"Why should you be surprised?'* she flashed 
back, an angry glint in her gray eyes. Already 
her good resolutions were poised for flight. 

"I am even more surprised at the boldness of 
your question. I ccmsider it as being in ex- 
tremely bad taste." 

"And I am surprised at the way I have been 
treated!" Jane cried out passionately, her last 
remnant of patience exhausted. "I understand 
that you have seen fit to ignore the arrangement 
I made with you last June about my room. Miss 
Steams has informed me that you have given it 
to an entering freshman. It's the most unfair 



RIGHT GUARD 31 

proceeding IVe ever known^ and I shall not sub- 
mit to such injustice." 

This was not in the least what Jane had pur- 
posed to say. She had intended to broach the 
subject on the diplomatic basis of a mistake hav- 
ing been made. She realized that she had thrown 
down the gauntlet with a vengeance, but she was 
now too angry to care. 

^^Miss Allenr The older woman's expression 
was one of intense severity. "Such insol^ice on 
your part is not only unbecoming but entirely 
uncalled for. You appear to have forgotten that 
you gave up your room of your own accord. I 
reserved it for you until I received your letter of 
last week." 

"Of my own accordt* gasped Jane, unable to 
believe she had heard aright. "My letter of last 
week I I don't understand." 

"I am at a loss to understand youf' acidly re- 
torted tiie matron. "I know of only one pos- 
sible explanation for youi' call upon me this after- 
noon. I should prefer not to make it. It would 
hardly reflect to your credit." 

"I must ask you to explain," insisted Jane 
haughtily. "We have evidently been talking at 
cross purposes. You say that I gave up my room 
of my own accord. You mention a letter I wrote 



32 JANE ALLEN 

you. I have not given up my room. I have 
neoer written you a letter. You owe me an ex- 
planation. No mattier how impleasant it may be, 
I am not afraid to listen to it." 

"Very well," was the icy response. "Since 
you insist I will say plainly that it appears, even 
after writing me a most discoiu-teous letter, you 
must have decided, for reasons of your own, to 
ignore this fact and return to Madison Hall. 
Not reckoning that your room would naturally 
be assigned to another girl so soon, you were bold 
enough to come here and attempt to carry your 
point with a high hand. I am quite sure you now 
understand me." 

"I do not," came the vehement deniaL "I re- 
peat that I never wrote you a letter. If you 
received one signed by me, it was certainly not 
I who wrote it. I am not surprised at your un- 
fair opinion of me. You have never liked me. 
Naturally you could not imderstand me. I will 
ask you to let me see the letter." 

Mrs. Weatherbee's reply was not made in 
words. Reaching into a pigeon-hole of her desk 
she took from it a folded letter minus its envelope 
and handed it to Jane. 

Her head in a whirl, Jane imfolded it and 
read: 



RIGHT GUARD 33 

''Mbs. Ellen Weathebbee, 
"Madison HaU, 
"Wellington Campus. 
"Dear Madam: 

"Although I regret leaving Madison Hall, it 
would be highly disagreeable to me to spend my 
sophomore year in it with you as matron. Your 
treatment of me last year was such that I should 
not like to court a second repetition of it. There- 
fore I am writing to inform you that I shall not 
return to the Hall. 

".Yours truly, 

"Jane Allen/* 



CHAPTER V 

THE UNKNOWN MISCHIEF MAKER 

"rr^HIS is too dreadfuir 

I Springing to her feet, Jane dashed 
"*• the offending letter to the floor, her 
cheeks scarlet with outraged innocence. 

"That was precisely my opinion when I read 
it," Mrs. Weatherbee sarcastically agreed. 

"But I never wrote it," stormed Jane. "That's 
not my signature. Besides the letter is typed. 
I would never have sent you a typed letter. 
Have you the envelope? What postmark was 
stamped upon it?" 

"It was postmarked *New York.* No, I did 
not keep the envelope." 

"New York? Why I came straight from 
Montana!" cried Jane. "I haven't been in New 
York since last Christmas." 

"I could not possibly know that. A letter 

34 



RIGHT GUARD 35 

could be forwarded even from Montana to New 
iTork for mailing/' reminded the matron with 
satirical significance. 

"Then you still believe that I wrote thUr 

Jane's voice was freighted with hurt pride. 
Something in the girl's scornful, fearless, gray 
eyes, looking her through and through, brought a 
faint flush to the matron's set face. The possi- 
bility that Jane's protest was honest had reluc- 
tantly forced itself upon her. She was not spe- 
daUy anxious to admit Jane's innocence, though 
she was now half convinced of it. 

**I hardly know what to believe," she said 
curtly. "Your denial of the authorship of this 
letter seems sincere. I should naturally prefer 
to believe that you did not write it." 

"I give you my word of honor as a Wellington 
girl that I did not/' Jane answered impressively. 
"I cannot blame you for resenting it. It is most 
discoiui;eous. I should be sorry to believe myself 
capable of such rudeness." 

"I will accept your statement," Mrs. Weather- 
bee stiflaiy conceded. "However, the fact remains 
that someone wrote and mailed this letter to me. 
There is but one inference to be drawn from it." 

She paused and stared hard at Jane. 

Without replying, Jane again perused the 



36 JANE ALLEN 

fateful letter. As she finished a second reading 
of it, a bitter smile dawned upon her mobile Kps. 

"Yes," she said heavily. "There is just one 
inference to be drawn from it — ^spite work. I 
had no idea that it would be carried to this length, 
though." 

"Then you suspect a particular person as hav- 
ing written it?" sharply inquired the matron. 

"I do," came the steady response. "I know 
of but one, perhaps two persons, who might have 
done so. I am fairly sure that it lies between 
the two." 

"It naturally follows then that the person or 
persons you suspect are students at Wellington," 
commented the matron. "This is a matter that 
would scarcely concern outsiders. More, we may 
go further and narrow the circle down to Madi- 
son HaD." 

Jane received this pointed surmise in absolute 
silence. 

"There is this much about it. Miss Allen," the 
older woman continued after a brief pause, "I 
will not have imder my charge a girl who would 
stoop to such a contemptible act against a sister 
student. I must ask you to tell me frankly if 
your suspicions point to anyone under this roof." 

"I can't answer that question, Mrs. Weather- 



RIGHT GUARD 37 

bee. I mean I don't wish to answer it. Even 
if I knew positively who had done this, I'd be 
silent about it. It's my way of looking at it and 
I can't change. I'd rather drop the whole mat- 
ter. It's hard, of course, to give up my room 
here and go somewhere else. I love Madison 
Hall and " 

Jane came to an abrupt stop. She was deter- 
mined not to break down, yet she was very near 
to it. 

"My dear child, you need not leave Madison 
Hall imless you wish to do so." Mrs. Weather- 
bee's frigidity had miraculously vanished. A 
gleam of kindly purpose had appeared in her 
eyes. 

For the first time since her acquaintance with 
Jane Allen she found something to admire. For 
the sake of a principle, this complex, self-willed 
girl, of whom she had ever disapproved, was will- 
ing to suffer injury in silence. The fact that 
Jane had refused to answer her question lost 
significance when compared with the motive 
which had prompted refusal. 

"You might easily accuse me of imf airness if 
I allowed matters to remain as they are," pur- 
sued the matron energetically. "As the injiu-ed 
party you have first right to yovir old room. 



38 JANE ALLEN 

Miss Noble, the young woman now occupying it 
with Miss Steams, applied for a room here by 
letter on the very next day after I received this 
letter, supposedly from you. 

"I wrote her that I had a vacancy here and 
asked for references. These she forwarded 
immediately. As it happens I have another un- 
expected vacancy here due to the failure of a 
new girl to pass her entrance examinations. Miss 
Noble will no doubt be quite willing to take the 
other room. At aU events, you shall have your 
own again." 

"I can't begin to tell you how much I thank 
you, Mrs. Weatherbee." Jane's somber face had 
lightened into radiant gratitude. "'But I can tell 
you that I'm sorry for my part in any misunder- 
standings weVe had in the past. I don't feel 
about college now as I did last year." 

Carried away by her YfBJisi appreciation of the 
matron's unlooked-for stand in her behalf, Jane 
foimd herself telling Mrs. Weatherbee of her 
pre-conceived hatred of college and of her grad- 
ual awakening to a genuine love for Welling- 
ton. 

Of the personal injuries done her by others she 
said nothing. Her little outpouring had to do 
only with her own struggle for spiritual growth. 



niGHT GUARD 39 

"It was Dorothy Martin who first showed me 
the way," she explained. "She made me see my- 
self as a pioneer, and college as a new comitry. 
She told me that it depended entirely on me 
whether or not my freshman claim turned out 
welL It took me a long time to see that. This 
year I want to be a better pioneer than I was 
last. That's why I'd rather not start out by 
getting someone else into trouble, no matter how 
much that person is at fault." 

During the earnest recital, the matron^s stem 
features had perceptibly softened. She was re- 
flecting that, after all, one person was never free 
to judge another. That human nature was in 
itself far too complex to be lightly judged by 
outward appearances. 

"You know the old sajdng, 'Out of evil some 
good is sure to come,' " she said, when Jane 
ceased speaking. "This aflfair of the letter has 
already produced one good result. I feel that I 
am beginning to know the real Jane Allen. You 
were right in saying that I never imderstood you. 
Perhaps I did not try. I don't know. You were 
rather different from any other girl whom I ever 
had before under my charge here." 

"I kept up the bars," confessed Jane ruefully. 
"I didn't wish to see things from any stand- 



.■^^ 



40 JANE ALLEN 

point except my own, I'm trying to break my- 
self of that. I can't honestly say that I have, 
as yet. I shall probably have a good many 
fights with myself about it this year. It's not 
easy to make one's self over in a day or a month 
or a year. It takes time. That's why I like col- 
lege so much now. It's helping me to find 
myself. 

"But that's enough about myself." Jime 
made a little conclusive gesture. "I hope there 
won't be any — ^well — ^any impleasantness about 
my room, Mrs. Weatherbee. I'd almost rather 
take that other vacancy than make trouble for 
you." 

"There will be no trouble," was the decisive 
assurance. "If Miss Noble objects to the change 
there are other campus houses open to her. I 
see no reason why she should. She only arrived 
this morning. She wiD not be kept waiting for 
the room. The girl who failed in her examina- 
tions left here at noon. I will see about it now.*' 

Mrs. Weatherbee rose to put her promise into 
imm^te eflFect. 

"If you don't mind, I'll join Judith and Adri- 
enne on th^ x^randa. I am anxious to tell them 
the good net^p^^'L eagerly declared Jane, now ou 
her feet. v^^ 



RIGHT GUARD 41 



Glancing at the disturbing letter which she 
held she handed it to Mrs, Weatherbee with: 
"What shall you do about this letter?" 

"Since the star witness in the case refuses to 
give testimony, it is hard to decide what to do," 
smiled the matron. "I might hand the letter to 
Miss Rutledge, yet I prefer not to do so. It is 
purely a personal matter. Suppose I were to 
prosecute an inquiry here at the Hall regarding 
it. It would yield nothing but indignant protests 
of innocence. If the writer were one of my girls 
she would perhaps be loudest in her protests." 

Though Jane did not say so, she was of the 
private opinion that the person she suspected 
would undoubtedly do that very thing. 

"A girl who would write such a letter would 
be the last to own to writing it," she said dryly. 

"Very true. Still things sometimes work out 
unexpectedly. If we have a mischief maker here, 
we may eventually discover her. Girls of this 
type often overreach themselves and thus estab- 
lish their guilt. I shall not forget this aflfair." 
The matron's voice grew stern. "If ever I do 
discover the writer, she will not be allowed to 
remain at Madison HalL" 



CHAPTER VI 

THE PLOT THICKENS 

^* fk ND Mrs. Weatherbee's gone to oust 
/-\ the disturber of our peace! Oh, joyT* 
^ "^ To emphasize further her satisfac- 
tion Judith gave Jane an ecstatic hug. 
"You can't be any gladder than I am-" 
Jane returned the hug with interest. 
"But how did it thus happen so beautifully?" 
questioned Adrienne eagerly. 

"It was a mistake No, it wasn't either. 

It was — ~" 

Jane paused. She wondered if she had the 
right to put her friends in possession of what 
she had so lately learned. Mrs. Weatherbee had 
not enjoined silence. Adrienne and Judith were 
absolutely trustworthy. They had forewarned 
her of the situation. It was only fair that they 
should be taken into her confidence. 



RIGHT GUARD 43 

"IVe something to tell you girls/' she went 
on slowly. "You must wait to hear it until we 
are in our room. I'd rather not go into it out 
here on the veranda." 

"'AH right. We'll he good. I hope the noble 
Miss Noble will hurry up and move out," wished 
Judith* "I can imagine how delighted she'll be." 

"She may care but little," shrugged Adrienne. 
"Of a truth, she has not been here so long. But 
a few hours 1 It is not muchl" 

'*I don't believe she'll relish it a bit," prophe- 
sied Judith. "She looks to me like one of those 
persons who get peeved over nothing. Isn't it 
funny, though? Mrs. Weatherbee made a mis- 
take last year about your room, Jane. Do you 
r^nember how haughty you were when you f oimd 
out you were to room with little Judy?" 

"Yes. I was a big goose, wasn't I?" Jane 
smiled reminiscently. "It wasn't Mrs. Weather- 
bee's fault this time. That's all I'll say imtil we 
three go upstairs." 

"Wish she'd hurry," grumbled Judith, refer- 
ring to the usurping freshman. "This evacua- 
tion business isn't going along very speedily. I 
wonder if she's unpacked. She hadn't touched 
her suitcase wh«a I left her. Her trunk hadn't 
come yet. Maybe it came while we were out. 



44 JANE JLLEN, 

I hope not. Then there'll be that much less to 



move." 



"Had this Miss Noble examinations to take?" 
asked Jane. 

"No, she told me she was graduated from a 
prep school last June. Burleigh, I think she 
said. I really didn't listen much to her. I was 
so upset over having her thrust upon me, I 
didn't want to talk to her." 

"Poor Judy." 

Jane bestowed a sympathizing pat upon 
Judith's arm. 

"All the time I was thinking 'poor Jane,'" 
laughed Judith. "Oh, dear I Why doesn't Mrs. 
Weatherbee come back. I'm crazy to hear the 
weird story of your wrongs, Janie." 

It was at least fifteen minutes afterward be- 
fore the matron descended the stairs, looking far 
from pleased. 

Watching for her, Jane stepped inside the 
house and met her at the foot of the stairs. 

"You may move in as soon as you please, Miss 
Allen," she informed Jane, her annoyed expres- 
sion vanishing in a friendly smile. 

"Thank you. I sha'n't lose any time in doing 
it." 

Jane returned the smile, thinking in the same 



RIGHT GUARD 45 

moment that it seemed rather odd but decidedly 
nice to be on such pleasant terms with the woman 
she had once thoroughly disliked. 

"Did you notice how vexed Mrs. Weatherbee 
looked when she came downstairs ?" was Judith's 
remark as the door of her room closed behind 
them. "I'll bet she had her own troubles with 
the usurper." 

"First the disturber, tiben the usiu-per. lYou 
have, indeed, many names for this one poor girl," 
giggled Adrienne. 

"Oh, I can think of a lot more," grinned 
Judith. "But what's the use. She has departed 
bag and baggage. To quote your own self, *It 
is suflScient.' Now go ahead, Jane, and spin 
your yam." 

"It's no yarn. It's sober truth. You imder- 
stand. I'm speaking in strict confidence." 

With this foreword, Jane acquainted the two 
girls with what had taken place in the matron's 
office. 

"Hm!" sniffed Judith as Jane finished. 
"She's begun rather early in the year, hasn't 
she?" 

"I see we're of the same mind, Judy," Jane 
said quietly. 

"I, too, am of that same mind," broke in Adri- 



46 JANE ALLEN 

enne. "I will say to you now most plainly that it 
was Marian Seaton who wrote the letter," 

"Of course she wrote it," emphasized Judith 
fiercely. "It's the most outrageous thing I ever 
heard of. ,You ought to have told Mrs. Weather- 
bee, Jane. Why should you shield a girl who is 
trying to injure you?" 

"I could only have said that I suspected her 
of writing the letter," Jane pointed out. "I have 
no proof that she wrote it. Besides, I didn't care 
to start my sophomore year that way. When I 
have anything to say about Marian Seaton, 111 
say it to her. I'm going to steer clear of her 
if I can. If I can't, then she and I will have to 
come to an imderstanding one of these days. I'd 
rather ignore her, unless I find that I can't." 

".You're a queer girl," was Judith's half- 
vexed opinion. "I think, if I were in your place, 
I'd begin at the beginning and tell Mrs. Weath- 
crbee every single thing about last year. I'd 
tell her I was positive Marian Seaton wrote that 
letter. She'd be angry enough to tax Marian 
with it, even though she made quite a lot of 
Marian and Maizie Gilbert last year. If 
Marian got scared and confessed — ^good night t 
She'd have to leave Madison HalL We'd all be 
better off on accoimt of it." 



RIGHT GUARD 47 

**No, ma chere Judy, you are in that quite 
i?irrong/' disagreed Adrienne. "This Marian 
would never make the confession. Instead she 
would make the great fuss. She would, of a 
truth, say that Jane had made the plot to injure 
her. She is most clever in such matters." 

^'I'm not afraid of anything she might say," 
frowned Jane. "I simply don't care to hother 
any more about it. I have my half of this room 
back and that's all that really matters. If 
Marian Seaton thinks " 

The sudden opening of the door cut Jane's 
speech in two. Three sm^prised pairs of eyes 
rested on a sharp-chinned, black-eyed girl who 
had unceremoniously marched into their midst. 
Face and bearing both indicated signs of active 
hostility. 

"Did I hear you mention Marian Seaton's 
namef" she sharply inquired of Jane. 

"You did." 

Jane gazed levelly at the angry newcomer. 

"Which of these two girls is Miss Allen?" 

This question was rudely addressed to Judith, 
whose good-natured face showed evident disgust 
of the interrogator. 

"I am Jane Allen. Why do you ask?" 

Jane spoke with curt directness. 



48 JANE ALLEN 

"I supposed that you were." The girl smiled 
scornfully. "I only wished to make sure before 
telling you my opinion of you. It did not sur- 
prise me to learn that it was you who turned me 
out of my room. I had already been warned 
against you by my cousin, Marian Seaton. No 
doubt youVe been saying spiteful things about 
her. I know just how shabbily you treated her 
last year. If she had been here to-day, you 
wouldn't have been allowed to take my room 
away from me. She has more influence at Wel- 
lington than you have. She will be here soon 
and then we'll see what will happen. That's all 
except that you are a selfish^ hateful trouble- 
maker." 

With every word she uttered the black-eyed 
girl's voice had risen. Overmastered by anger 
she fairly screamed the final sentence of her 
arraignment. Then she turned and bolted from 
the room, leaving behind her a dimibf ounded trio 
of young women. 

"Brr!" ejaculated Judith. "What do you 
think of that? I'm siu-e I could have heard that 
last shriek, if I'd been away over on the campus. 
Marian Seaton's cousin! Think what Judy 
escaped!" 

"You are very funny, Judy," giggled Adri- 



RIGHT GUARD 49 

enne. "And that girl I How little repose; what 
noise I" 

"Yes, Vhat noise/ " Judith echoed the giggle. 
"Really, girls, am I awake or do I dream? First 
a strange and awful girl comes walking in on me. 
Then I learn the pleasant news that Jane's de- 
serted me. Along comes Jane, who doesn't know 
she's lost her home. Enter Marian Seaton as a 
letter writer. Result Jane and Mrs. Weatherbee 
become bosom friends. Jane is vindicated and 
her rights restored. Right in the middle of a 
happy reimion in bounces the tempestuous Miss 
Noble. Quite a little like a nightmare, isn't it?'* 

"It has the likeness to the movie plot," asserted 
Adrienne mirthfully. "Very thrilling and much 
mixed." 

"I never dreamed coming back to Wellington 
would be like this." 

Jane smiled. Nevertheless the words came 
with a touch of sadness. 

"Don't let it worry you, Jane," counseled 
Judith. "I was only fooling when I said this 
afternoon had been like a nightmare. You may 
not have another like this the whole year. 
Things always happen in bunches, you know. I 
move that we re-beautify our charming selves 
and go down to the veranda. We'll be on hand 



50 JANE ALLEN 

if any of tiie girls arrive. There's a train from 
the east at five-thirty. Dorothy may be on 
that." 

"I hope she is/* sighed Jane. 

Mention of Dorothy Martin made Jane long 
for a sight of the gentle, whole-souled girl whom 
she so greatly loved and admired. 

"'Go ahead, Jane, and change your gown. I'll 
unpack your bag for you," offered Judith. "Be- 
loved Imp here may help, if she's very good." 

"Thank you, Judy." 

Jane began an absent unfastening of her 
pongee traveling gown, preparatory to bathing 
her throat, face and hands, dusty from the 
journey. 

While her two friends laughed and chattered 
as they impacked her bag, she gave herself up 
to somber reflection. The events of the after- 
noon had left her with a feeling of heavy de- 
pression. Why, when she desired so earnestly 
to do well and be happy, must the ancient enmity 
of Marian Seaton be dragged into her very first 
day at Wellington. Was this a forerunner of 
what the rest of her sophomore days were des- 
tined to be? 



CHAPTER VII 

AX trNPL£ASANT TABLEMATE 

DESPITE the iinpropitioiis events of the 
afternoon, evening saw a merry little 
party in full swing in Judith's and 
Jane's room. 

Barbara Temple and Christine Ellis came 
over from Argyle Hall. The five-thirty train 
had brought not only Dorothy Martin but Mary 
Ashton as welL Eight o'clock saw them calling 
calling on Judith and Jane, along with Adrienne 
and EtheL Of the old clan. Norma Bennett 
alone was absent, « loss which was loudly la- 
mented by all. 

So swiftly did time fly tiiat the party ended in 
a mad scurry to comply with the inexorable half - 
past ten o'clock rule. 

Jane went to bed that night considerably 
Ufi^ter of heart. Reunion with the girls who 

51 



52 JANE ALLEN 

were nearest to her had driven the afternoon's 
unpleasantness from her thoughts, for the time 
being at least. The friendly presence of those 
she loved had proved a powerful antidote. 

A night's sound sleep served to separate her 
further from the disagreeable incidents of the 
previous day. She had two things, at least, to 
be glad of, she reflected, as she dressed next morn- 
ing. She was back in her own room. More, she 
now stood on an entirely different footing with 
Mrs. Weatherbee than heretofore. 

This last was brought home to her more 
strongly than ever when, in going down to break- 
fast, she passed the matron on her way to the 
dining-room and received a smiling "Grood morn- 
ing, Miss Allen." 

It was at decided variance with the reserved 
manner in which Mrs. Weatherbee had formerly 
been wont to greet her. 

"Well, we are once again at the same table,'* 
remarked Adrienne as Jane slipped into the 
place at table she had occupied diu'ing her fresh- 
man year. "Until last night I ate the meals 
alone. It was triste/^ 

Adrienne's profound air of melancholy made 
both Jane and Dorothy laugh. 

"What made you come back to college so 



RIGHT GUARD 53 

early, dear Imp?" questioned Dorothy, smiling 
indulgently at the little girl. 

"I had the longing to see the girls," Adrienne 
replied simply. "This past summer I have 
greatly missed all of you." 

"WeVe all missed one another, I guess," Jane 
said soberly. "Often out on the ranch IVe 
wished you could all be with me. Next simuner 
you must come. I'm going to give a house 
party." 

"What raptiu-e!" Adrienne clasped her small 
hands. "I, for one, will accept the invitation, 
and now." 

Somewhat to Jane's surprise Dorothy said not 
a word. She merely stared at Jane, a curiously 
wistful expression in her gray eyes. 

"Don't you want to come to my house party, 
Dorothy?" 

Though the question was playfully asked it 
held a hint of pained surprise. 

"Of coiu-se I'd like to come. I will — ^if I can." 
This last was added with a little sigh. "Did you 
bring Frefly East with you, this year, Jane?" 
she inquired with abrupt irrelevance. 

".Yes. Pedro started East ahead of me with 
Firefly. They haven't arrived yet. Are you go- 
ing to ride this year, Dorothy?" 



54 JANE ALLEN 



Jane was wondering what had occasioned in 
Dorothy this new, wistful mood. It was entirely 
unlike her usual blithe, care-free self. 

"I'm afraid not." The shadow on Dorothy's 
fine face had deepened. "Frankly, I can't afford 
to keep a riding horse here. I don't mind telling 
just you two that it was a question with me as to 
whether I ought to come back to college. We 
were never rich, you know, just in comfortable 
circumstances. This simmier Father met with 
financial losses and we're almost poor. Both 
Father and Mother were determined that I 
should come back to Wellington on account of 
it being my la«t year. So I'm here. I've not 
brought any new clothes with me, though, and I 
shall have to be very economical.*' 

Dorothy smiled bravely as she made this frank 
confession. 

"Who cares whether your clothes are new or 
old, Dorothy?" came impulsively from Jane. 
"It's having you here that coimts. Nothing else 
matters. I'm ever so sorry that your father has 
met with such misfortune." 

"Ah, yes I I too, have the sorrow that such 
bad luck has come to your father. We are the 
lucky ones, because you have come back to us," 
Adrienne agreed impressively. 



RIGHT GUARD 55 

'Tfou're dears, both of you. Shake hands/' 

Her eyes eloquent with affection, Dorothy's 
hand went out to Jane, then to Adrienne. 

"We try to be like you, ma chere/' was Adri- 
enne's graceful response. 

"That's very pretty. Imp," acknowledged 
Dorothy, flushing. "I'll have to watch my step 
to merit that compliment. Now that you've 
heard the sad story of the poverty-stricken senior, 
I call for a change of subject. Did you know 
that Edith Hammond isn't coming back?" 

"She isn'tl" 

Jane looked her surprise at this unexpected bit 
of news. 

"No. Edith is going to be married," Dorothy 
^ informed. "She was heart-whole and fancy-free 
when she left here last June. Then she went with 
her family to the Catskills for the sxmmier. She 
met her fate there; a young civil engineer. 
They're to be married in November. She wrote 
me a long letter right after she became betrothed. 
L#ater I received a card announcing her engage- 
ment" 

"I hope she'll be very happy," Jane spoke 
with evident sincerity. "I'm so glad we grew 
to be friendly before college closed last June. 
It was awfully awkward and embarrassing for 



S6 JANE ALLEN 

us when we had to sit opposite each other at this 
table three times a day without speaking." 

Tardy recollection of the fact that there had 
also been a time when the wires of communica- 
tion were down between herself and Dorothy, 
caused a tide of red to mount upward to Jane's 
forehead. 

The eyes of the two girls meeting, both smiled. 
Each read the other's thoughts. Such a catas- 
trophe would not occur again. 

"I wonder how many new girls there will be 
at the Hall," Dorothy glanced curiously about 
the partially filled dining-roouL "'Let me see. 
We had four graduates from Madison. Edith 
isn't coming back. That makes five vacancies 
to be fi[Qed. Do you know of any others?" 

The approach of a maid with a heavily laden 
breakfast tray, left the question unanswered for 
the moment. 

"You forget, la petite/^ reminded Adrienne 
as she liberally sugared her sliced peaches. "She 
will no longer live at the top of the house. She 
has already made the arrangements to room with 
Mary Ashton. So there are but four vacancies. 
I would greatly adore to be with my Norma, but 
Ethel is the good little roommate. I am satis- 
fied." 



RIGHT GUARD 57 

Adrieime dismissed the subject with a wave of 
her hand. 

"Norma can have Edith's place at our table/' 
suggested Dorothy. "That will be nice. I'll 
speak to Mrs. Weatherbee about it right after 
breakfast." 

"Perhaps we should not wait until then." 

Adrienne half rose from her chair. Noting 
that the matron's place at another table was va- 
cant she sat down again. 

"Here she comes now!" 

Jane followed her annoimcement with a muf- 
fled "Oh!" Mrs. Weatherbee was advancing 
toward their table and not alone. Behind her 
walked the aggressive Miss Noble. 

"Miss Noble, this is Miss Martin." The ma- 
tron placidly proceeded with the introductions 
and rustled off, imconscious that she had precipi- 
tated a difficult situation. Her mind occupied 
with other matters, she had failed to note the stiff 
little bows exchanged by three of the quartette. 

It had not been lost upon Dorothy, however. 
Greeting the newcomer in her usual gracious 
fashion, she wondered what ailed Jane and 
Adrienne. 

"Haye you examinations to try, Miss Noble?" 
she as^ed pleasantly, by way of shattering the 



58 7ANE ALLEN 

frigid silence that had settled down on three of 
the group. 

"No, indeed." The girl tossed her blad^ head. 
''I am from Burleigh." 

"Oh I A prep school, I suppose?" Dorothy in- 
quired politely. The name was unfamiliar to 
her. 

"One of the most exclusive in the Middle 
West," was the prompt answer, given with a 
touch of arrogance. "I must say, Wellington 
doesn't compare very favorably with it in my 
opinion." 

A faint sparkle of resentment lit the wide gray 
eyes Dorothy turned squarely on the freshman. 

"That's rather hard on Wellington," she said 
evenly. "I hope you will change your mind 
after youVe been with us a while." 

"I hardly expect that I shall, judging from 
what IVe already seen of it. That is, if Madison 
Hall furnishes a sample of the rest of the col- 
lege." 

Turning petulantly to the maid who had come 
up to attend to her wants she ordered sharply: 

"Bring me my breakfast at once. I am in a 
hmry." 

A dead silence ensued as the maid walked 
away. SignaUy vexed at the stranger's dispar- 



RIGHT GUARD 59 

aging remarks, Dorothy had no inclination to 
court a fresh volley, 

Jane and Adrienne were equally attacked by 
dumbness. They were devoting themselves to 
breakfast as if in a hurry to be through with it. 

**I didn't intend to speak to you ever again," 
the disgruntled freshman suddenly addressed 
herself to Jane. "I suppose you think it's queer 
in me to sit down at the same table with you after 
what I told you yesterday. I was going to re- 
fuse, then I decided I had a perfect right to sit 
here if I chose. If you don't like it you can sit 
somewhere else." 

"Thank you. I am quite satisfied with this 
table." Jane's reply quivered with sarcasm. "I 
sat here at meals last year. I have no intention 
of making a change." 

"It is, of a truth, most sad, that we cannot 
oblige you," Adrienne cut into the conversation, 
her elfish black eyes snapping. "It is not neces- 
sary, however, that we should say more about it. 
We are here. We shall continue to be here. It is 
suflicient." 

She made a sweeping gesture as if to brush 
the offensive Miss Noble off the face of the earth. 

The latter simply stared at the angry little girl 
for a moment, too much amazed to make ready 



6o JANE ALLEN 

reply. Adrienne's calm ultimatum rather stag- 
gered her. 

Too courteous to show open amusement of the 
situation, Dorothy resorted to flight. With a 
hasty "Excuse me*' she rose and left the table, 
^ane and Adrienne instantly followed suit, leav- 
ing the quarrelsome freshman alone in her glory. 

Straight toward the living-room Dorothy 
headed, her friends at her heels. Dropping down 
on the davenport she broke into subdued 
laughter. 

"You naughty Imp," she gasped. "I know I 
oughtn't laugh, but you were so funny. Wasn't 
she, Jane?" 

"Yes." Jane was now smiling in sjmapathy 
with Dorothy's mirth. A moment earlier she 
had been scowling fiercely. 

"What's the answer, Jane?" 

Dorothy's laughter had merged into sudden 
seriousness. 

"Marian Seaton's cousin," returned Jane 
briefly. "I didn't intend to mention it," she con- 
tinued, "but under the circumstances I think you 
ought to know the truth." 

Briefly Jane acquainted Dorothy with the 
situation. 

"The whole affair is contemptible," Dorothy's 



RIGHT GUARD 6i 

intonation indicated strong disapproval of the 
cowardly attempt to deprive Jane of her room, 

"It looks as thought Marian were guilty," she 
continued speculatively. "She's tiie only one at 
Wellington, I believe, who would do you a bad 
turn." 

"You forget Maizie Gilbert," shrugged Jane. 

"Oh, Maizie, left to herself, would never be 
dangerous. She's too lazy to be vengeful. She 
only follows Marian's lead." 

"This Marian well knew that with Mrs. 
Weatherbee Jane could not agree," asserted 
Adrienne. "She had the opinion that when Jane 
arrived here Mrs. Weatherbee would listen to 
nothing she might say. So she had the mis- 
taken opinion." 

"Mrs. Weatherbee always means to be just," 
defended Dorothy. "She has rather prim ideas 
about things, but she's a stickler for principle. 
I am glad she's over her prejudice against you, 
Jane." 

"So am I," nodded Jane. "About this whole 
affair, Dorothy, I don't intend to worry any 
more. I'm going to be too busy trying to 
be a good sophomore pioneer to trouble myself 
with either Marian Seaton or her cousin. Noth- 
ing that she did last year to try to injure ma 



62 JANE ALLEN 

succeeded. As long as I plod straight ahead and 
keep right with myself I Ve nothing to fear from 
her." 



CHAPTER VIII 

A HAPFT THOUGHT 

» 

DURING the week that followed Jane 
became too fully occupied with settling 
down in college to trouble herself fur- 
ther abotit Marian Seaton. Neither the latter 
nor Maizie Gilbert had as yet returned to Wel- 
lington, a fact which caused Jane no regret. 

She did not doubt that as soon as Marian put 
in an appearance she would hear a garbled tale 
of woe from her belligerent cousin. Whether 
Marian would take up the cudgels in her cousin's 
defense was another matter. 

Firm in her belief that Marian had written the 
disquieting letter, Jane was fairly sxu^ that the 
former's guilty conscience would warn her 
against making a protest to Mrs. Weatherbee 
that her cousin had been shabbily treated. 
As it happened she was quite correct in hei 

63 



64 JANE ALLEN 

surmise. When, late one afternoon at the end of 
the week, Marian and Mai2de Gilbert arrived at 
Madison Hall they were treated to a sight that 
disturbed them considerably. 

To a casual observer there was nothing strange 
in the sight of two white-gowned girls seated in 
the big porch swing, apparently well pleased with 
each other's society. To Marian Seaton, how- 
ever, it represented the defeat of a carefully laid 
scheme. Sight of Jane Allen, calmly ensconced 
in the swing and actually laughing at something 
Adrienne Dupree was relating with many ges- 
tures, filled Marian Seaton with sullen rage, not 
unmixed with craven fear. 

''What do you think of that?" she muttered to 
Maizie as the driver of the taxicab brought the 
machine to a slow stop on the drive. "I never 
expected to see her here." 

"Maybe Mrs. Weatherbee didn't receive it," 
returned Maizie in equally guarded tones. 

"Something's gone wrong," was the cross sur- 
mise. "Watch yourself, Maiz, when you talk to 
Mrs. Weatherbee." 

"Oh, she couldn't possibly know," assured 
Maizie. "This Allen snip has just managed to 
have her own way. You know what a hurricane 
she is when she gets started." 



RIGHT GUARD «£ 

"Just the same you'd better be on your gmurd/' 
warned Marian. 

"Madison Hall, miss." 

The driver was impatiently addressing 
Marian. Deep in considering the unwelcome 
state of affairs revealed by Jane's presence on 
the veranda, neither girl had made any move to 
alight. 

"Oh, keep quiet!" exclaimed Marian rudely. 
"We'll get out when we are ready." 

"Charge you more if you keep me waiting," 
retorted the man. "Time's money to me." 

This threat resulted in the hasty exit of both 
girls from the machine. Provided with plenty of 
spending money, Marian thriftily endeavored 
always to obtain the greatest possible return for 
the least expenditure. 

As the luggage-laden pair ascended the steps, 
some hidden force drew Marian's unwilling gaze 
to the porch swing. A quick, guilty flush dyed 
her cheeks as her pale blue eyes met the steady, 
inscrutable stare of Jane's gray ones. 

Immediately she looked away. She could not 
fathom the meaning of that cahn, penetrating 
glance. 

In consequence Marian could not know that 
Jane had been seeking confirmation of a certain 



66 JANE ALLEN ' 

private belief, which the former's guilty confu- 
sion had supplied. 

"Do you think she*s found out anything?" 
Marian asked nervously of Maizie^ the instant 
they had entered the house. 

"Mercy, no. If she had she'd have glowered 
at you," reassured Maizie. "She just looked at 
you as though you were a stranger. You 
needn't be afraid of her. She's too stupid to put 
two and two together." 

"She must know about the letter, though. 
What I can't see is how she managed to stick 
here in spite of it. Every room here was spoken 
for last June. Mrs. Weatherbee told me so. I'll 
bet Elsie's had to go to another campus house. 
It's a shame! That letter was meant to do two 
things. Get Jane Allen out of the Hall and 
Elsie in. Don't stop to talk with old Weather- 
bee, Maizie," was Marian's injunction. "We'll 
just say *How do you do. We're back,' and 
hustle upstairs. Be sure to notice if she seems 
as cordial as ever. If she is, it will be a good 
sign that we're safe." 

Meanwhile, out on the veranda, Adrienne was 
remarking under her breath to Jane: 

"Did you observe the face of Marian Seaton? 
'Aht but she is the guilty one!" 



RIGHT GUARD 67 

"I noticed," replied Jane dryly. "I was deter- 
mined to make her look at me, and she did. It 
upset her to see me here. She wasn't expecting 
it." 

''It is the annoyance that she has returned/' 
sighed Adrienne. ''All has been so delightful 
without her." 

"I'm going to forget that she's here," avowed 
Jane sturdily. "Come on. Imp. Let's go over 
to the stable and see Firefly. I promised him 
an apple and three limips of sugar yesterday. I 
must keep my word to him." 

Rising, Jane held out an inviting hand to 
Adrienne. The little girl promptly linked her 
fingers within Jane's and the two started down 
the steps, making a pretty picture as they strolled 
bare-headed across the campus to the western 
gate. 

'^Hello, children I Whither away?" 

Almost to the wide gateway they encountered 
Dorothy Martin coming from an opposite direc^ 
lion. 

"We're going to call on Firefly. Want to 
come along?" invited Jane. 

"Of course I do. Firefly is a very dear friend 
of mine." 

"I must stop at that little fruit stand below 



68 7ANE ALLEN 

the campus and buy Firefly's apple/' Jane said 
as the trio emerged from the campus onto the 
pubUc highway. "I have the sugar in my blouse 
pocket." 

She patted a tiny bulging pocket of her white 
silk blouse. 

''Marian Seaton and Maizie Gilbert have 
returned," Adrienne informed Dorothy, with a 
droU air of resignation. ''But a few moments 
past and we saw them arrive. We made no 
effort to embrace them." 

"Miss Howard isn't pleased over their staying 
away so long," confided Dorothy. "She told me 
yesterday that every student had reported ex- 
cept those two. She asked me if I knew why 
tiiey were so late. She hadn't received a word of 
excuse from either of them. Too bad, iaa't it, 
that they should so deliberately set their faces 
against right?" 

"They walk with the eyes open, yet are blind," 
mused Adrienne. "I have known many such 
persons. Seldom is there the remedy. I cannot 
imagine the reform of Marian Seaton. It 
would be the miracle." 

"You may laugh if you like, but I've won- 
dered whether there mightn't be some way to 
find the good in her^ Dad says there's some 



RIGHT GUARD 69 

good in even the worst person, if one can only 
find it." 

Silent from the moment Adrienne had men- 
tioned Marian's name, Jane broke into the con- 
Tersation. 

"After I read that miserable letter, I felt as 
though I abated Marian Seaton harder than 
ever," she went on. "When I saw her to-day I 
despised her for being what she was. All of a 
sudden it came to me that I was sorry for her 
instead. It's a kind of queer mix-up of feel- 
ings." 

Jane gave a short laugh. 

"You have the right spirit, Jane. I'm proud 
of you for it. You make me feel ashamed. 
While I've been merely saying that it's too bad 
about Marian, you've gone to the root of the 
matter," assured Dorothy earnestly. 

"Yet what could one do thus to bring about 
the reform?" 

Adrienne's shrug was eloquent of the dubiety 
of such an enterprise. 

"Begin as Jane has, by being sorry for her," 
replied Dorothy thoughtfully. 

"I am French," returned "Adrienne simply. 
**The Latin never forgets nor forgives." 

Having now reached the fruit stand where 



TO JANE ALLEN 

Jane had stopped to purchase a large red apple 
for her horse, the subject of Marian Seaton was 
dropped. 

Arrived at the stable the three girls spent a 
merry session with Firefly, who demanded much 
petting from them. 

"He*s the dearest little horse I ever saw, 
Janel" glowed Dorothy when they finally left 
him finishing the apple which Jane had saved as 
a good-bye solace. "If ever I owned a horse like 
Firefly I'd be the happiest girl in the whole 
world." 

"There aren't many like him." 

Jane turned for a last look over her shoulder 
at her beautiful pet. Pursing her lips she whis- 
tled to him. Instantly he neighed an answer. 

"Is he not cunning?" cried Adrienne. 

Dorothy admiringly agreed that he was. 

Jane smiled in an absent manner. An idea 
had taken shape in her mind, the pleasure of 
which brought a warm flUsh to her cheeks. 

In consequence she suddenly quickened her 
pace. 

"What's the matter, Jane? Training for a 
walking match?" asked Dorothy humorously. 

"I beg your pardon," apologized Jane, slow- 
ing down. "I just happened to think of a letter 



RIGHT GUARD 71 

I wanted to write and send by the first maU/' 

"Run on ahead^ then/' proposed Dorothy, 
"We'll excuse you this once." 

"Oh^ it's not so urgent as all that. I just let 
my thoughts run away with me for a minute." 

Nevertheless there was a preoccupied light in 
Jane's eyes as the thr^e returned across the cam- 
pus to the Hall. 

The instant she gained her room she went 
hastily to work on a letter, a pleased smile curv- 
ing her lips as she wrote. When it was finished 
she prepared it for mailing and ran lightly down 
tiiie stairs and across the campus to the nearest 
mail box. She gave a happy little sigh as it dis- 
appeared through the receiving slot. How glad 
she was that the idea had come to her. She won- 
dered only why she had never thought of it 
before. 



CHAPTER IX 

MKKK Kits OF DISCORD 

FIFTEEN minutes after the arrival of 
Marian and Maizie a disgruntled trio of 
girls sat closeted in the room belonging to 
Marian and Maizie. 

"It's aU your fault," stormed Elsie Noble, her 
sharp black eyes full of rancor. "If you'd come 
here as you promised instead of being a week 
late you Qould have used the wonderful influ- 
ence you say you have with Mrs. Weatherbee to 
let me keep that room. It's forty times nicer 
than the one I have." 

"I couldn't get here any sooner. Howard 
Armstead gave a dinner dance specially in honor 
of me and we had to stay for it," 

Marian crested her blonde head as she flun^ 
forth this triumphant excuse. 

"Of course you did. You're so boy-struck you 

72 



RIGHT GUARD 73 

can't see straight. I might have known it was 
because of one of your silly old beaux. I'm glad 
I have more sense." 

"You don't show any signs of it," sneered 
Marian. 

"Stop quarreling, both of you," drawled 
Maizie. "Go go ahead, Elsie, and tell us what 
happened about the room. That's the thing we 
want to know. For goodness' sake keep your 
voice down though. You don't talk. You 
shout." 

"I'd rather shout than drawl my words as if I 
were too lazy to say them," retaliated Elsie 
wrathfully. 

"All right, shout then and let everybody in 
the Hall know your business," was Maizie's 
tranquil response. 

"If you came here to fuss, Elsie, then we can 
get along very well without you. If you expect 
to go around with us, you'll have to behave like 
a human being." 

Marian's cool insolence had an instantly sub- 
duing effect on her belligerent relative. She 
knew that Marian was quite capable of dropping 
her, then and there. 

**I don't know what happened about the room," 
she said sulkily, but in a decidedly lower key. "I 



74 JANE ALLEN 



came here at nine o'clock in the morning. Mrs. 
Weatherbee sent the maid with me to the room. 
That Steams girl said I must have made a mis- 
take. I knew that she wasn't exactly pleased. 
She said hardly a word to me. She went out and 
stayed out until just before luncheon. Then she 
came in for about ten minutes and went down- 
stairs. I didn't see her again." 

"She was probably running aroimd the cam- 
pus telling her friends about it," lazily smmised 
Maizie. "I'll bet she was all at sea. Wonder if 
she went to Weatherbee with a string of com- 
plaints." 

"What happened after that?" queried Marian 
impatiently. 

"What happened?" Elsie pitched the question 
in a shrill angry key. "Enough, I should say. 
I unpacked part of my things, then finished read- 
ing a dandy mystery story I'd begun on the train. 
About four o'clock Mrs. Weatherbee sailed in 
here and made me give up the room." 

"What did she say?" was the concerted ques- 
tion. 

"She said there'd been a misimderstanding 
about Miss Allen's coming back to the HalL 
That Miss Allen was not to blame and so must 
have her own room. I said I wouldn't give it up 



RIGHT GUARD 75 

and she said it was not for me, but her, to decide 
that. She said I could have the other room if I 
wanted it. If I didn't then she had nothing eke 
to offer me. I said I'd go to the registrar about 
it. She just looked superior and said, *As you 
please.' I knew I was beaten. If I went to the 
registrar, then Mrs. Weatherbee would have a 
chance to show her that letter. If I gave in, very 
likely she'd let the whole thing drop. As long 
as she'd offered me another room here, I thought 
it was best to take it." 

"I didn't think it would turn out like that," 
frowned Marian. "Weatherbee couldn't bear 
Jane Allen last year. I was sure she'd be only 
too glad to get rid of her. That letter was meant 
to make her furious, enough so that she wouldn't 
let this Allen girl into the Hall again. Some- 
thing remarkable must have happened." 

"Weatherbee didn't suspect you, anyway," 
chimed in Maizie. "She was all smiles when we 
went into her oflBce." 

"Yes, she was sweet as cream. She could 
never trace it to me anyway. I took good care 
of that." 

"Who wrote it for you?" asked Elsie curi- 
ously. 

"That's my affair," rudely returned Marian. 



76 JANE ALLEN 

"If I told you all my business you'd know as 
much as I do. I*m sorry the scheme didn*t work, 
but, at least, you got into the Hal^. I*m cer- 
tainly glad that girl failed in her exams. As for 
Jane Allen — ^well, I'm not through with her yet. 
Who is your roommate?" 

"A Miss Reynolds. She's a soph " 

^^ Alicia Reynolds r chorused two interrupting 
voices. 

"Well of all things 1" Marian's pale eyes wid- 
ened with siu*prise. "What do you think of that, 
Maiz?" 

"You're in luck, Marian," Maizie averred with 
a slow smile. "You stand a better chance of 
getting in with Alicia again. Elsie can help you 
if she doesn't go to work and fuss with Alicia 
the &st thing." 

"What are you talking about? Who is this 
Alicia Reynolds?" inquired Elsie curiously. 

"Oh, we chmnmed with her last year. She 
didn't like this Jane Allen any better than we 
did. Then last spring she went riding and fell 
off her horse and our dear Miss Allen picked her 
up and brought her home on her own horse. 
Alicia wasn't hurt. She thought she was and 
that the Allen girl was a heroine," glibly related 
Marian. "She listened to a lot of lies Jane Allen 



_^ RIGHT GUARD 77 

told her about us and now she won't speak to 
either of us. It's too bad, because we are really 
her friends and this Allen person isn't. Some 
day we hope to prove it to her." 

"This Jane Allen must be a terrible mischief- 
maker/' was Elsie's opinion. "I told her what I 
thought of her the afternoon she came." 

"You did?" exclaimed Marian. 

"Yes, sirree. I went straight to her room and 
spoke my mind. I was so furious with her. The 
very next morning Mrs. Weatherbee put me at 
the same table with her. It was my first meal at 
the Hall. I went to Rutherford Inn for limch- 
eon and dinner. I was hungry and thought 
maybe the meals wouldn't suit me. They're all 
right, though. When I saw her at the table I 
was going to balk about sitting there, then I 
changed my mind. I had as much right to be 
there as she. I told her that, too." 

"Some little scrapper," murmured Maizie. 

There was cunning significance, however, in 
the slow glance she cast at Marian. 

"What did she say to you?" 

Marian had returned Maizie's glance with one 
of equal meaning. 

"Not much of anything. I didn't give her a 
chance," boasted Elsie. "That little French girl 



78 JANE ALLEN 



snapped me up in a hurry. She's awfully pretty, 
isn't she?" 

"She's a little eat," retorted Marian. "Look 
out for her. She's too clever for you. Her 
mother's Eloise Dupree, the dancer. She 
dances too. They're friends of President 
Blakesly's. She's awfully popular here and 
afraid of nobody. She's devoted to Jane Allen, 
though, so that settles her with me." 

"Is Dorothy Martin at your table?" asked 
Mai2de. 

"Yes. I don't like her." 

"She's a prig," shrugged Maizie. 

"Edith Hammond used to sit there. Do you 
know her?" queried Marian of Elsie. 

"She's not here any more. She's going to be 
married. I heard this Dorothy talking about her 
yesterday to Miss Dupree." 

"Glad's she's gone. She was another turncoat. 
Hated Jane Allen and then started to be nice to 
her all of a sudden." 

"This Jane Allen seems to have a lot of friends 
for all you girls say about her," Elsie asserted 
almost defiantly. "I detest her, but I notice she's 
never alone. The first night she came there was 
a crowd of girls in her room. I heard them 
laughing and singing." 



RIGHT GUARD 79 

"They didn't come to see herf^ informed 
Marian scornfully. "It's Judith Steams that 
draws them. She's very popular at Wellington. 
Can't see why, I'm sure. Anyway Jane Allen 
has pulled the wool over her eyes imtil she thinks 
she has a wonderful room-mate." 

"Jane Allen hasn't so many friends," hroke 
in Maizie. "Dorothy Martin, Judith, Adrienne 
Dupree, Ethel Lacey, she's Adrienne's room- 
mate, and Norma Bennett. That's all. Lots of 
girls in the sophomore class don't like her." 

"Yes, and who's Norma Bennett," sneered 
Marian. "She used to be a kitchen maid; now 
she's a third-rate actress. She's a pet of Adri- 
enne's and Jane Allen's. I think we ought to 
make a fuss about having her here at the Hall. 
If we could get most of the girls to sign a peti- 
tion asking Mrs. Weatherbee to take it up it 
would be a good thing." 

"But would she do it?" was Maizie's skeptical 
query. 

"She might if we worked it cleverly," an- 
swered Marian. "Adrienne and her crowd would 
probably go to President Blakesly. We'd have 
to work it in such a way that Norma wouldn't 
let her. This Bennett girl is one of the sensitive 
sort. False pride, you know. Beggars are usu- 



80 JANE ALLEN ,, 

ally like that. Of course, I don't say positively 
that we can do it. We'll have to wait and see. 
Some good chance may come." 

"It would be a splendid way to get even with 
Jane Allen and Adrienne Dupree, too," ap- 
proved Maizie. "They would have spasms if 
their darling Norma had to leave Madison Hall 
and they couldn't help themselves." 

"I think it would be rather hard on this 
Norma," declared Elsie blimtly. 

She had pricked up her ears at the word 
"actress." Unbeknown to anyone save herself 
she was desperately stage struck. The idea of 
having a real actress at the Hall was decidedly 
alliu*ing. 

"You don't know what you're talking about,'* 
angrily rebuked Marian. "It's hard on the girls 
of really good families to have to countenance 
such a person. I've lived at Madison Hall a year 
longer than you have. Just remember that." 

"What we ought to do is to get a$ many girls 
as we can on our side," suggested crafty Maizie. 
"There are forty-eight girls at the Hall, most 
of them sophs. Last year we let them alone, be- 
cause they weren't of our class. This year we'll 
have to make a fuss over them* Lunch them 
and take them to ride in oiu* cars and all that* 



RIGHT GUARD 8i 

It will be a bore, but it will pay in the end. Once 
we get a stand-in with them, we can run things 
here to suit ourselves." 

"That^s a good idea," lauded Marian. "We'll 
begin this very day." 

So it was that while Jane Allen and her little 
coterie of loyal friends entered upon their col- 
lege year with high aspirations to do well, under 
the same roof with them, three girls sat and 
plotted to overthrow Wellington's most sacred 
tradition: "And this is my command unto you 
that ye love one another." 



CHAPTER X 

A TAGUE BEGBET 

••X*^ TELL, Jane, it*s our turn to do the 

%/^ inviting this year," announced Judith 
Steams, as she pranced jubilantly 
into the room where Jane sat hard at work on 
her Horace for next day's recitation. 

"When is it to be?" 

Jane looked up eagerly from her book. 

"A week from to-night. The notice just ap- 
appeared on the bulletin board. You know my 
fond affection for the bulletin board." 

Judith boyishly tossed up her soft blue walk- 
ing hat and caught it on one finger, loudly ex- 
pressing her opinion of her own dexterity. 

"Sit down, oh, vainglorious hat-thrower, and 
tell me about it," commanded Jane, laughing. 

"That's all I know. It's to be nfcxt Wednes- 
day night. I suppose our august soph committee 



RIGHT GUARD 83 

has met and decided the great question. It*s 
the usual getting-acquainted-with-our-f reshman- 
sisters affair. After that comes class meeting, 
and after that " 

Judith plumped down on her couch bed and 
beamed knowingly at Jane. 

"Guess what comes after that," she finished. 

"Basket-ball." 

Jane gave a long sigh of pure satisfaction. 
There was a pleasant light in her eyes as she 
made the guess. She was anxiously looking for- 
ward to making the sophomore team. 

"Yes, hasket'haUr 

Judith echoed the sigh. She also hoped to 
make the team. 

"We'll have to get busy and invite oiur fresh- 
men to the dance," she said wagging her brown 
head. "The freshman class is large this year; 
about a third larger than last year's class. That 
means some of the juniors and seniors will have 
to help out. I'm glad of it. It will give Norma 
a chance to go too." 

"There are only foiu* freshmen in this house," 
stated Jane. "One of them is out of the question 
for us." 

"I get you," returned Judith slangily. "Un- 
doubtedly you refer to the ignoble Miss Noble. 



84 JANE ALLEN ^_ 

Noble by name but not by nature," she added 
with a chuckle. 

Jane smiled, then frowned. 

**Honestly, Judy, I'd give almost anything if 
she weren't at our table. I don't mind her not 
speaking to any of us. But she always listens to 
every word we say and acts as if she was storing 
it up for future reference. Even Dorothy feels 
the strain." 

"It's too bad," sympathized Judith. "There's 
only one consolation. When it gets too much 
on your nerves you can always fall back on 
Rutherford Inn." 

"I'm going to fall back on it to-night," decided 
Jane suddenly. "Let's have a dinner party." 

"Can't go. I am/ the proud possessor of one 
dollar and two cents," Judith ruefully admitted. 

"This is to be my party," emphasized Jane. 
"I haven't touched my last check yet. I've been 
too busy studying to partify. Now don't be a 
quitter, Judy. I want to do this." 

Jane had observed signs of objection on 
Judith's good-humored face. 

"All right," yielded Judith. "Gk) ahead. I'U 
give a blow-out when my chedc comes. It'll be 
here next week." 

"We'll invite Norma, Dorothy, Adrienne^ 



RIGHT GUARD 85 

!EtheI, Mary, Christine Ellis, Barbara Temple, 
and oh, yes — ^Alicia Reynolds. We mustn't for- 
get Alicia/' 

"Yes, she needs a little recreation," grinned 
Judith. "Chained to the ignoble Noble! What 
a fate for a good little soph! Some roommate 1" 

"You'd better be careful about the pet name 
you're so fond of giving that girl," warned Jane, 
laughing a little in spite of her admonition. 
"You know yoiu* failing. You'll say it some time 
to someone without thinking. Then little Judy 
will be sorry." 

"Oh, I only say it to you and Imp," averred 
Judth cheerfully. "You're both to be trusted." 

"If we're going to have the party to-night we'll 
have to hiu'ry up about it. How are we going to 
get word to Alicia? I hate to go to her room on 
account of Miss Noble. And what about Chris- 
tine and Barbara?" 

Jane laid down her book and rose from her 
chair. 

"I'll go over to Argyle Hall and invite them. 
Tell Ethel to go in and invite Alicia," suggested 
Judith. "She's almost as obliging as I am. She 
rooms next to Alicia and oiu* noble friend. It 
will be only a step for her. She won't mind do- 
ing it." 



86 JANE ALLEN 

"I guess I'd better. Tell Christine and Bar- 
bara to be at the Inn by six-thirty." 

Jane turned and left the room. Walking 
down the long hall she passed Alicia's door. It 
was open a trifle. She was tempted to peep in 
and see if Alicia might perhaps be within and 
alone. Second thought prompted her to go on 
without investigating. 

Rapping smartly on Ethel's door, her knock 
was followed by the sound of approaching foot- 
falls from within. Nor was she aware that 
through the slight opening in Alicia's door a pair 
of sharp black eyes peered out at her. 

"Why, hello, Jane!" greeted Ethel. "Come 
m. 

"Can't stop but a minute." 

Jane stepped into the room, careful to dose 
the door behind her. 

"I'm giving a dinner party at Rutherford Inn 
to-night," she briskly began. "All of our crowd 
are going, I hope. I'm just starting out to 
invite them. Where's Imp?" 

"Downstairs on the trail of her laimdry," 
laughed Ethel. "It went out white linen skirts 
and silk blouses. It came back sheets and pillow 
cases. You should have seen her face when she 
opened the package. She threw up her hands 



RIGHT GUARD 87 

and said: * What stupidity I Must I then appear 
in my classes draped like the ghost?' " 

Jane joined in EtheFs merry laughter. She 
had a vision of petite Adrienne trailing into 
classes thus spectrally attired. 

"I want you to do something for me, Ethel." 
Jane had grown suddenly serious. "Will you 
go to Alicia and invite her to the party? I'd 
rather not go myself. You imderstand why. 
But it's really necessary to invite her. She 
might feel hiui; if she were left out. I wouldn*t 
have that happen for worlds. Not after what she 
did for me about basket-ball. She was dining 
out the night we had the spread so I couldn't 
invite her to that. I told her so afterward for 
fear she might have been oflFended." 

"Surely I'll teU her," nodded Ethel. "I don't 
think she's in now, though. I met her going 
down the walk as I came up it. She said she had 
to go to the library for a book she needed. I 
imagine she'll be back soon." 

"Be sure to tell her," Jane impressed upon 
Ethel. "Thank you ever so much. Tell Adri- 
enne, too. Don't dress up. It's a strictly in- 
formal party. Meet me in the living-room at 



six." 



With this Jane departed to go on to Dorothy's 



88 IfJNB 'ALLEN, 

room. Passing the door of Alicia's room she 
noted that it was now closed. As Alicia was out 
she guessed that Elsie Noble was in. She was 
now not sorry that she had refrained from ap- 
proaching it. Undoubtedly she would have met 
with an unpleasant reception. 

Finding her other friends at home, Jane 
quickly made the rounds and hurried back to her 
own room. 

Judith appeared soon afterward with the in- 
formation that Christine and Barbara had joy- 
fully accepted and would be on hand at the Inn. 

When at six o'clock the party from the HaU 
gathered in the living-room, first glance about 
showed her that Alicia was missing. 

Going over to where Ethel stood, Jane an- 
xiously asked: "Did you see Alicia, Ethel?" 

"Yes. She isn't coming. She said to tell you 
it was impossible for her to accept. I went to her 
room a few minutes after you left. I knocked 
until I was tired but no one answered. So I 
went back to my room. After a while I tried 
again and while I was standing at her door she 
came down the hall with Miss Noble. I asked 
her to come into my room a minute and told 
her." 

"Funny she didn't give you any reason why 



RIGHT GUARD 89 

she couldn't come," pondered Jane with drawn 
hrows. 

"She looked as though she'd heen crying," re- 
turned Ethel. "I thought maybe she'd had bad 
news or something so I didn't iu*ge her. She 
wasn't a bit snippy. She just looked white and a 
little bit sad." 

"I wonder if I ought to run up and see her." 

Jane stared at Ethel, her eyes full of active 
concern. 

"Better wait until to-morrow," advised Ethel. 
"Whatever's the matter with her, she may feel 
like lowig alone. Tou know how it is sometimes 
with one." 

"Yes, I know.*' 

Jane knew only too well how it felt to be 
sought out by even her friends when occasional 
black moods descended upon her. 

"We may as well start," she said slowly. "As 
hostess I mustn't neglect my guests. I'll surely 
make it a point to see Alicia in the morning." 

Nevertheless as the bevy of light-hearted 
diners left Madison Hall and strolled bare- 
headed in the sunset toward Rutherford Inn, a 
vague uneasiness took hold of Jane. She re- 
gretted that she had not gone upstairs to see 
Alicia. Nor did it leave her until after she had 



90 JANE ALLEN 

reached the Inn, where for the time being the 
lively chatter of her companions served to drive 
it from her minds 



CHAPTER XI 

BEJECTED CATAIJEBS 

ONE glaring result of Jane's dinner party 
was the ignoring of the ten-thirty rule 
that night. 

It was eight o'clock when the congenial diners 
finished an elaborate dessert and strolled gaily 
out of the Inn. The beauty of the night induced 
the will to loiter. Some one proposed a walk into 
Chesterf ord and a visit to a moving-picture thea- 
tre. 

When they emerged from it it was half -past 
nine, thus necessitating a quick hike to the cam- 
pus. Jane and Judith made port in their room 
at exactly twenty-five minutes past ten. 

Visions of unprepared lessons looming up 
large, they decided that for once "lights out" 
should not be the order of things. 

As a consequence of retiring at eleven-thiriy, 

91 



92 7ANE ALLEN 



both overslept the next morning and dashed 
wildly oflF to chapel without breakfast. 

Occupied from then on with classes, it was not 
until she had finished her last recitation of the 
morning and was on her way to Madison Hall 
that Jane remembered her resolve to see Alicia. 

Determined to lose no more time in putting it 
into execution, she quickened her pace. Coming 
to the stone walk leading up to the steps of the 
Hall, Jane uttered a little cluck of satisfaction. 
She had spied Alicia seated in a rocker on the 
veranda, engaged in reading a letter. 

"Oh, Alicia!'* she called as she reached the foot 
of the steps. "You're the very person I most 
want to see!" 

Sound of Jane's voice caused Alicia to glance 
up in startled fashion. She had been faintly smil- 
ing over her letter when first Jane glimpsed her. 
Now her pale face underwent a swift, ominous 
change. She hastily rose. 

"I didn't wish to see yow^ she said stiflBy, and 
marched into the house. 

Jane's primary impulse was to follow her and 
demand an explanation. The rebuflP, however, 
had stirred again into life the old, rebellious pride 
which had formerly caused her so much imhappi- 
nes8. 



RIGHT GUARD 93 

For a moment she stood still, hands clenched, 
cheeks flaming with mortification. Then with a 
bitter smile she walked slowly up the steps and 
into the house. After that affront Alicia would 
wait a long time before she, Jane Allen, would 
seek an explanation. 

"Well, it has come," she said sullenly, as she 
entered her room where Judith sat at the dress- 
ing table, recoiling her long brown hair. 

"What's come? By 'it' do you mean your- 
self?" 

Judith turned in her chair with a boyish grin. 

"No," Jane answered shortly. "Alicia Rey- 
nolds has gone back to her old chums." 

"You don't mean it 1" 

Judith's hands dropped from her hair. In her 
surprise she let go of half a dozen hair pins she 
had been holding in one hand. 

"Now see what you made me do," she laugh- 
ingly accused. "Get down and help me pick 
them up." 

"Oh, bother your old hairpins!" exclaimed 
Jane savagely. "I'm awfully upset about this, 
Judy. I felt last night as if I should have gone 
to Alicia and asked her what was the matter. 
This is some of Marian Seaton's work." 

"Of coiu-se it is," calmly concurred Judith. **I 



94 JANE ALLEN 



haven't the least idea of what it's all about, but 
I agree with you just the same. I'U agree even 
harder when I do find out." 

In a few jerky sentences Jane enlightened 
Judith. 

"So that's the way the land lies," commenied 
Judith. "Well, I'm not surprised. Take my 
word for it the ignoble Noble has had a hand in 
this. Just the same I don't believe Alicia has 
gone back to Marion Seaton. She's merely hurt 
over some yam that's been told her. You'd bet- 
ter see her, Jane, and have ft out with her." 

"I won't do it." Jane shook an obstinate head. 
"Alicia ought to know better than listen to those 
girls. She knows how badly Marian Seaton be- 
haved last year about basket-baU. She knows 
that Marian is untruthful and dishonorable. If 
she chooses to beUeve in a person of that stamp 
then she will have to abide by her choice." 

It was the stubborn, embittered Jane Allen of 
earlier days at Wellington who now spoke. 

"Only the other day I said to Dorothy that I 
didn't hate Marian Seaton any longer; that I 
felt only sorry for her. I said, too, that there 
must be some good in her if one could only find it. 
What a simpleton I was !" 

The sarcastic smile that hovered about Jane's 



J 



RIGHT GUARD 95 

red lips, fully indicated her contempt of her own 
mistaken sentiments. 

"Adrienne was right," she said after a brief 
pause. "She said she could never forget nor for- 
give an injury. I thought I could, but I can^t. 
I mean I don't want to." 

Her brows meeting in the old disfiguring 
scowl, Jane began pacing the room in what 
Judith had termed her "caged lion" fashion. 

"Oh, forget it," coimseled Judith, casting a 
worried glance at Jane's gloomy, storm-ridden 
face. "Don't let JV^arian Seaton's hatefulness 
upset you, Joan. You behaved like a brick about 
your room and that letter. This isn't half as bad 
as that mix-up was. You said your own self that 
you were going to ignore anything she tried to do 
against you. Now go ahead and keep your word. 
You've lots of good friends. You should 
worry." 

"I haven't so many," Jane sharply contra- 
dicted. "I can count them on my fingers. I 
don't make friends as easily as you do, Judy." 

"Just the same a lot of fuss was made over you 
last spring when you won the big game for our 
team," Judith sturdily reminded. 

"That's not friendship. That was only admi- 
ration of the moment. The same girls who 



96 7ANE ALLEN 

cheered me then would probably be just as ready- 
to turn against me if they happened to feel like 
it," pointed out Jane skeptically. "No wonder 
I used to hate girls. Very few of them know 
what loyalty and friendship mean." 

"You're hopeless." Judith made a gesture of 
resignation. 

With a chuckle she added: "Why not challenge 
Marian Seaton to a duel and demolish her? Um- 
brellas would be splendid weapons. I have cme 
with a lovely crooked handle. You could prac- 
tice hooking it around my neck and when the 
fateful hour came you could bring the double- 
dyed villain to her knees with one swoop. 
Wouldn't that be nice?" 

"You're a ridiculous girl, Judy Steams." 

Jane was forced to laugh a little at Judith's 
nonsense. 

''You're a goose yourself to get all worked up 
over nothing," grinned Judith. "I can't say I 
blame you for throwing up the stupendous labor 
of hunting out Marian's good qualities. In my 
opinion 'There ain't no such animal.' But you're 
a very large-sized goose if you allow her to spoil 
your sophomore year for you." 

"I don't intend she shall spoil it," Jane grimly 
assured. "I've stood a good deal from her with- 



RIGHT GUARD 97 

out ever even once trying to strike back. I'm not 
sure that IVe done right in allowing her to tor- 
ment me as she has without ever asserting my- 
self • There's a limit to forbearance. I may feel 
soihe day that IVe reached it/' 

Judith smiled but said nothing. She had too 
high an opinion of Jane to believe that her proud- 
spirited room-mate would ever descend to the 
level of her enemies. Given an opportunity for 
revenge, she believed that Jane would scorn to 
seize it. 

"Have you invited your freshman yet?'' she 
asked with sudden irrelevancy. 

"No, I haven't had time to see any one of them 
yet," Jane answered. 

"I asked Miss Lorimer, a cute little girl from 
Creston Hall, this morning after chapel, but she 
said she'd already been invited," informed Judith. 
^^I must find out if the three eligible freshmen 
here have escorts yet. I suppose they have, with 
so many sophs in the house. The ignoble Noble's 
not an eligible." 

The luncheon bell now interrupted the talk. 
It seemed to Janq as she took her place at table 
that spiteful triumph lurked in the sharp glance 
Elsie Noble flashed at her. 

The conversation carried on by herself, Adri- 



98 JANE ALLEN 

enne and Dorothy, centered almost entirely on 
the coming dance. From Adrienne, Jane learned 
that the Hall's three freshmen had already re- 
ceived invitations. 

When the little French girl annomiced this, 
Jane again fancied that she read satisfaction in 
the sharp features of the quarrelsome freshman. ' 

Though the latter had not addressed a word 
to her tablemates since her advent among them, 
she never missed a word they said. All three were 
well aware of this and it annoyed them not a 
little. 

When just before dinner that evening Judith 
and Jane compared notes, it was to discover the 
same thing. Neither had been successful in se- 
curing a freshman to escort to the dance. 

"I've asked five girls and every one of them 
turned me down," Judith ruefully acknowledged. 
"I thought I'd start early, but it seems others 
started earlier." 

"I've asked two diflFerent girls, but both have 
escorts," frowned Jane. "I sha'n't ask any more. 
I thought Miss Harper, the second girl I asked, 
refused me rather coolly. I want to do my duty 
as a soph, but I won't stand being snubbed." 

"Let's go and see what luck Ethel and Adri- 
enne have had»" proposed Judith. 



RIGHT GUARD 99 

Indifferently assenting, Jane accompanied 
'Judith to her friends' room. 

"Ah, do not ask mel" was Adrienne's disgusted 
outburst. "These freshmen are, of a truth, too 
popular. Four this day I have invited, but to 
no purpose." 

"I'm going to take Miss Simmons, a Barclay 
Hall girl, to the dance," informed Ethel. "I 
asked her this morning and she accepted." 

"Well, we seem out of luck," sighed Judith. 
"Do you know whether Mary and Norma have 
invited their freshmen?" 

"Mary's going to take Miss Thomas, an Ar- 
gyle Hall girl. Norma hasn't asked any one 
yet," was Ethel's prompt reply. "You girls just 
happened to ask the wrong ones, I guess. Try 
again to-morrow. There are more than enough 
freshies to go round this year." 

After a Uttle further talk, Jane and Judith 
went back to their room. 

"What do you think about it?" Judith asked 
abruptly the instant they were behind their own 
door. 

"I don't know. It's probably as Ethel says, 
*a happen-so.' I can't think of any other reason, 
imless -" 

Jane stopped and eyed Judith steadily. 

108557B 



loo JANE ALLEN 

""Unless some one in the freshman class has 
set the freshmen against us/' quickly supple- 
mented Judith. 

"Yes, that's what I was thinking. It doesn't 
seem possible in so large a class. Still one girl 
can sometimes do a good deal of mischief." 

"You mean Miss Noble?" 

Judith was too much in earnest to use the de- 
risive name she had given the disagreeable fresh- 
man. 

"Yes," affirmed Jane. "If she helped to turn 
Alicia against me, she is quite capable of going 
further. So far as we know, you and Adrienne 
and I are the only sophs who've been turned down 
all around. Norma hasn't asked any one yet. 
Anyway, she's a junior." 

"It looks rather queer, so queer that I'm go- 
ing to make it my business to ask a few questions 
to-morrow. If there's really anything spiteful 
back of this, believe me, little Judy will find it 
out." 



CHAPTER XII 

kokma's "find" 

THE end of the next day was productive 
of no better results so far as Adrienne, 
Judith and Jane were concerned. Play- 
ing escort to their freshman sisters seemed not 
for them. 

That evening a quintette of girls gathered in 
Ethel's room to discuss the peculiar situation. 
The quintette consisted of Bthel^ Adrienne, Jane, 
Judith and Norma Bennett. 

"There's something not right about it," Judith 
emphatically declared. "IVe tried all day to get 
a clue to the mystery, but nothing doing. No- 
body seems to want the pleasure of our company 
to the dance. What luck have you had. Norma?" 

"Oh, I invited a little girl named Freda Marsh. 
She lives away ofiF the campus," replied Norma. 
"She and three other girls have rented the second 

lOI 



I02 JANE ALLEN 

floor of a house and do their own cooking. They 
are all poor and very determined to put them- 
selves through college/* 

"When did you discover this find?" Judith 
showed signs of active interest. 

"Miss Marsh sits next to me at chapel," re- 
plied Norma. "After chapel this morning I 
asked her to go to the dance. She seemed awfully 
pleased. Then she told me where she lived and 
about herself and her chums. They all hail 
from a little town in the northern part of New 
.York State." 

"Wicked one, why did you not tell me this be- 
fore?" playfully demanded Adrienne. 

"I haven't had a chance. Imp, until now," 
smiled Norma. "This is the first time IVe seen 
you to-day except at a distance." 

"Ah, yes, it is true!" loudly sighed Adrienne. 
"This noon I came late from the laboratory after 
a most stupid chemistry lesson. Such hands I 
They were the sight I I feared I should wash 
them away before th§y became presentable. 
After the classes this afternoon I must of a neces- 
sity go to the Ubrary. So it was dinner time when 
I returned, and thus passed the time." 

"You're forgiven." 

Her blue eyes full of aflFection, Nonna kid an 



RIGHT GUARD 103 

arm over Adrienne's shoulder. She had every 
reason to adore the impulsive, wann-hearted little 
girl. 

"Norma, do you suppose Miss Marsh's friends 
have received invitatidns to the dance?" Jane 
broke in eagerly. 

"I don't know, Jane. I can find out for you in 
the morning at chapel." 

"I wish you would. If they haven't, teU Miss 
Marsh that we would love to be their escorts and 
that we'U call on them to-morrow evening. How 
about it, girls?" 

Jane turned questioning eyes from Judith to 
Adrienne. 

"It's a fine ideal" glowed Judith. "I'm sorry 
I didn't know about iliem before. The freshman 
class is so large this year. I know only a few of 
the girls as yet." 

"I am indeed well suited." Adrienne waved 
an approving hand. "Shall we not go to make 
the call soon after dinner to-morrow night?" 

"Yes, as early as we can," acquiesced Judith^ 
"That is, provided these three girls haven't been 
asked." 

"It would be nice to go and see them anyway," 
declared Ethel. "We ought to get acquainted 
with them. Where do they live, Norma?" 



I04 JANE ALLEN 

"'At 605 Bridge Street. It's almost a mile 
from here. So Miss Marsh said." 

"To go back to what you said a while ago, 
Judy, what makes you think there is any special 
reason for the girls' refusing you and Adrienne 
and Jane as escorts?'' questioned Norma concern- 
edly. 

"Jane and I just think so. That's alL We 
think some one's to blame for it." 

"To blame. Who then is to blame?" 

A swift jQash of suspicion had leaped into Adri* 
enne's big black eyes. 

"Some one not far away, perhaps," replied 
Judith significantly. "That's the way it looks to 
me. 

'^ut could it be? She is but one among 
many," reminded Adrienne. 

She understood quite well whom Judith meant. 

"She's the only freshman who would be inter- 
ested in making trouble," argued Judith. "She 
has probably been egged on by others who are 
not freshmen." 

"StiU it's not fair to lay it to her when we don't 
know anything definite," remarked Ethel. 

"I'm only supposing," explained Judith. 
"I'm not saying positively that I think she's 
guilty. I'm only saying that it se^ns probable.'* 



RIGHT GUARD 105 

"I doubt it." Ethel shook a dubious head 

"I may be wrong," Judith admitted. "Any- 
way, it won't matter, if these three girls accept 
our invitation. It will show the plotters, if there 
really are any, tiiat they haven't bothered us a 
bit." 

"I'm sorry, girls, but I'll have to go." Norma 
rose from her chair. "I haven't looked at my 
books yet and I must study to-night." 

"You're not the only one," cheerfully com- 
mented Judith, gettmg to her feet. "Come on, 
Jane. We have our own troubles in the study 
line." 

With this the taUdng-bee broke up. Norma 
promising faithfully to be sure to deliver next 
morning the message intrusted -to her. 

Directly after dinner the following evening the 
five friends set out for 605 Bridge Street. 
Greatly to the delight of the three most interested 
parties. Norma had given out the pleasant news 
that the trio of girls they were to call upon were 
without special invitations to the coming dance. 

The beauty of the soft autumn night made 
walking a pleasure. Five abreast, the callers 
strolled through the twilight, making the still air 
ring with their fresh voices and light, happy 
laughter. 



io6 JANE ALLEN 

The house where the four freshmen lived was 
an unpretentious dwelling, built of wood and 
painted a dull gray. A straggling bit of uneven 
lawn in front by no means added to its appear- 
ance. Even in the concealing twilight it had a 
neglected look. It was in glaring contrast to 
stately Madison Hall with its green, close-clipped 
lawns and wide verandas. 

"What cheerlessness!" exclaimed Adrienne 
under her breath. 

Grouped about the door. Norma rang the belL 
A tired-eyed, middle-aged woman answered it. 
Yes, Miss Marsh was in, she declared listlessly. 

A clear, pleasant voice from above stairs af- 
firmed that information. Next instant a sweet- 
faced, brown-eyed girl had reached the landing 
and was greeting her callers with a pretty cor- 
diality that was infinitely pleasing. 

"Do come upstairs to our house," she invited. 
"It's a very unpretentious place, but home-like^ 
we think." 

Norma introducing her friends to Miss Marsh, 
the five girls followed their hostess up the narrow 
stairway and were ushered into a good-sized liv- 
ing-room. A rag rug covered a floor, stained 
dark at the edges. An old-fashioned library 
tables a quaint walnut desk with many pigeon 



RIGHT GUARD 107 

holes, a horse-hair covered settee and a few non- 
descript, but comfortable-looking chairs com- 
pleted the furniture. 

On the table, strewn with books, a reading 
lamp gave forth a mellow light. The walls, 
papered in tan with a deep brown border, were 
dotted with passe-partouted prints, both in color 
and black and white. The whole effect, though 
homely, was that of a room which might indeed 
be called a living room. 

"Please help yourselves to seats," hospitably 
urged their winsome hostess. "Excuse me for a 
moment while I call the girls. They are just fin- 
ishing the washing of the supper dishes and get- 
ting things in shape for breakfast. We get 
everyihing ready the night before so as not to be 
late in the morning," she explained. Then, with 
a smiling nod, she left her guests. 

"It's a comfy old room, isn't it?" was Judith's 
guarded observation. "This house-keeping idea 
of theirs is a clever one." 

"That Miss Marsh is a dear," murmured Ethel. 
"I've seen her oiice or twice before on the cam- 
pus, I think." 

"I have the feeling that we shall like these 
girls," commented Adrienne. "This Miss Marsh 
has the sweet face and*he courteous ways." 



io8 JANE ALLEN 

The entrance of their hostess and her chiims 
prevented further exchange of opinion. 

'^These are my pals, Ida Lieonard, Marie Ben- 
ham and Kathie Meddart/' smiled Freda, going 
on to name each of her callers as she performed 
the introduction. ^'You see I remembered all 
your names and to whom they belonged." 

When a nimiber of girls have the will to be- 
come acquainted it does not take them long to 
do so. Almost immediately a buzz of animated 
impersonal conversation began. 

"We came here to deliver our invitations in 
person," Jane finally said with a smile. "Miss 
Leonard, I'd love to be your cavalier for the 
freshman frolic." 

"Thank you. I'd love to go to it with you, I*m 
sure," accepted Ida Leonard, a tall, thin girl 
with fair hair and a plain, but interesting face. 

Jane having set the ball rolling, Adrienne 
promptly invited Marie Benham, a slim little 
girl with an eager, bojrish face, framed in curly 
brown hair. 

This left Kathie Meddart, an extremely pretty 
girl of pure blonde type, to Judith. 

Considerable merriment arose over the extend- 
ing and acceptance of the invitations. Poverty 
had not robbed the four yoimg hostesses of a 



RIGHT GUARD > 109 

cheery, happy-go-lucky air that charmed their 
more affluent guests. 

For an hour the congenial company talked and 
laughed as only girls can. Kathie finally excus- 
ing herself, disappeared kitchenward, presently 
returning with a huge, brown pitcher of lemon- 
ade and a plate piled high with crisp little cakes, 
which she assured were of her own making. 

Needless to say, they disappeared with amaz- 
ing rapidity, the guests loudly acclaiming their 
toothsome merits. 

"I'm glad you like them," declared Kathie, 
pink with pleasant confusion. "I took a course 
in cookery at a night school at home last year. 
I often used to make this kind of cakes for par- 
ties. I had lots of orders and made enough 
money to pay my tuition fees at Wellington for 
this year.'* 

"How splendid I" approved Jane. Her ap- 
proval was echoed by the others. 

"I'm hoping, after I get acquainted here in 
college, to do a little of that sort of thing,'* con- 
fided Kathie rather shyly. "I could spare an 
hour or so a day to do it. Only I don't know how 
to go about it." 

"Would you — could you — ^would you care to 
make some for me, some day?" hesitated Jane. 



rio JANE ALLEN 

**They would be simply great if one were giving 
a spread." 

"Why, that's ever so kind in you," glowed 
Kathie. "When I just spoke of it I wasn't fish- 
ing for an order. I mentioned it before I 
thought." 

"It's a good thing you did. I'll order two 
dozen for my own special benefit the minute my 
check comes," laughed Judith. "I sha'n't give 
Jane Allen one. I'll sit in a comer of our room 
and gobble them all up." 

"I adore those cakes I" Adrienne clasped her 
small hands. "Would it then be possible that I 
might have some to-morrow? Perhaps two 
dozen? Ah, but I am not the greedy one. I will 
share with my friends, even most selfish Judy." 

This provoked a laugh at Judith's expense. So 
it was, however, that Kathie received her first 
order which she agreed to deliver the next day. 

As a matter of fact, she had been the only one 
to demur when Freda had announced that the 
Madison Hall girls were coming there that even- 
ing. She had advanced the argument that "those 
rich Madison Hall girls won't care to ask us to 
the dance when they see how poor we are." Now 
she wondered how she could ever have so mis- 
judged such a delightful lot of girls. 



CHAPTER XIII 

THE EXPLANATION 

WHEN at length the quintette of callers 
regretfully agreed that they must be 
getting back to the Hall, Freda said 
rather nervously: 

"Please don't go just yet. I — ^we — ^there is 
something we think we ought to tell you." 

"Very well, tell us," invited Judith gaily. 

She had an idea that the something might re- 
late to the all-important question of gowns. If 
TVeda were worrying over that, Judith proposed 
to dismiss the subject lightly. Precisely the same 
thought had occurred to Jane, who noted Freda's 
sudden flush and evident confusion. 

"Something — ^well — ^not very pleasant hap- 
pened this afternoon," Freda continued. "A — 

we had a caller — ^a girl Why shouldn't I be 

frank? This girl was of the freshman class. We 

HI 



112 JANE ALLEN 

saw her at class meeting the other day, but we 
have never been introduced to her. She brought 
a paper with her and asked us to sign it. It was 
about three of you girls; Miss Allen, Miss Du- 
pree and Miss Steams, and " 

"About us?'* chorused a trio of astonished 
voices. 

"Yes," nodded Freda, her color heightening. 
"It began, *We, the undersigned,' I can't recall 
the exact words, but it was an agreement not to 
accept an invitation from any one of you to the 
dance or to notice you throughout the year, be- 
cause of the discourteous and hateful way you 
bad treated a member of the freshman class. 
There were " 

"How perfectly disgraceful 1" burst indig- 
nantly from Judith. "What did I tell you, girls ? 
I knew there was something wrong. We didn't 
expect to find it out in this strange way, though. 
Well, 'murder will out,' as the saying goes." 

"You said the paper began, 'We, the under- 
signed'?" questioned Jane in a clear, hard voice. 
"How many names were signed to it?" 

"I can't say positively." Freda looked dis- 
tressed. "You see, it made me so disgusted that 
I handed it back the instant I had read it. The 
girl offered it to my chums, too, but they wouldn't 



mOHT GUARD 113 

look at it. She said that nearly all the members 
of the class had signed it. I know better. I be- 
lieve not half the class had signed.'" 

"Would you object to telling us the name of 
the girl who brought you the paper to sign?" 
steadily pursued Jane. 

"I wouldn't object; no. Why should I? A 
girl like that deserves no clemency," Freda re- 
turned spiritedly. "The trouble is, I don't know 
her name. She is small and dark, with sharp 
black eyes and a pointed chin. She's very 
homely, but dresses beautifully. She " 

"Thank you. We know who she is," inter- 
rupted Judith. "Her name is Elsie Noble, and 
she lives at Madison Hall." 

**Ah, but she is the hateful one," sputtered 
Adrienne. "It was most kind in you. Miss 
Marsh, and your friends also, to thus refuse to 
sign this hideously imtruthful paper. We have 
done this girl no harm. Rather, it is she who 
would harm us because we have respected our 
own rights." 

*'I suspected it to be a case of spite work," as- 
serted Freda. "It is not usual for a class in col- 
lege to adopt such harsh measures." 

**We were rather surprised at her coming to 
us with the paper," put in Kathie. "We've seen 



114 JANE ALLEN 

her with a crowd of girls who don't appear to 
know that we are on the map. She said she un- 
derstood that you girls were going to invite us to 
the dance and felt it her duty to call on us and 
object to our accepting your invitations." 

"But how could she possibly know that?'* cried 
out Ethel Lacey. "No one except the five of us 
knew it until Norma told you this morning." 

"I hope you don't think " began Freda. 

A hurt look had crept into her soft, brown 
eyes. 

"How could we possibly think such a thing?" 
cut in Jane assuringly. "We can readily under- 
stand that Miss Noble's call must have been a 
complete surprise to you. On the contrary, we 
are very grateful to you and your friends for 
not signing the paper." 

"Yes, indeed," nodded Judith. "Frankly, we 
suspected that something unpleasant was in the 
wind. When first we heard about the dance, we 
each invited freshmen whom we knew. Every- 
one of them turned us down. We didn't think 
anything of that in the beginning. We supposed 
we had just happened to invite the wrong ones. 
Afterward we thought diflFerently." 

"I am sorry we didn't make it our business to 
get acquainted earlier with you girls. We really 



RIGHT GUARD 115 

should have, you know," Judith apologized. 
"We were so busy getting started in our classes 
that we hadn't had time yet to be sociable. Jane 
and I had both agreed to try to know every girl 
in the freshman class this year. I'm glad it has 
turned out like this. I'm sure we'U all have a 
splendid time at the dance, no matter whether 
some people Uke it or not." 

"I'm very sure of it, too," declared Kathie 
Meddart. "I can't understand how a girl 
could be so contemptible as to deliberately set out 
to injiu'e others." 

"Oh, well, she hasn't succeeded," reminded 
Judith, "so why should we care? We've invited 
our freshmen in spite of her." 

"What are you going to do about that paper?" 
Ida Leonard asked a trifle curiously. "If I were 
you girls, I think I would make a fuss about it. 
We'll stand by you if you do." 

"Indeed we will," echoed Marie Benham. "I 
wouldn't allow such a document to travel about 
college." 

"It's hard to decide what to do," Jane said 
gravely. "It might be wiser to ignore the whole 
thing. I don't know. We'll have to think it 
over, I guess. I thank you girls for yoiu* oflFer to 
stand by us." 



ii6 JANE ALLEN 

Aside from Freda's opinion that spite had 
actuated the circulation of the damaging paper^ 
she and her chums had exhibited an admirable 
restraint concerning it. They had evidently ac- 
cepted Adrienne's sketchy explanation of it at 
its face value. 

This courteous disinclination to pry had been 
especially noted and approved by Jane. It added 
to the high opinion she already cherished of the 
four freshmen. They had been moved solely by 
a sense of duty to inform herself and her compan- 
ions of the outrageous paper. 

Jane felt strongly that an explanation was due 
them, yet she hated to make it. It would be too 
much like gossiping, she thought. 

"Adrienne told you, a little while ago, that we 
had done Miss Noble no harm," she said slowly. 
"'That is really all that I think ought to be said 
about this affair. Are you satisfied to leave it 
so?" 

"Perfectly," replied Freda. "I'd rather it 
would be that way. I can see no good in drag- 
ging up unpleasant things. We'd rather not 
hear about them." 

"The paper itself speaks for those who drew it 
up," smiled Marie. "It's easy to place the blame 
where it belongs." 



RIGHT GUARD 117 

Ida and Kathie's warmly expressed opinion 
coincided with that of their companion. 

"'Shall we not speak of more pleasant things? 
What of the dance? At what time shall we come 
for you?" 

Adrienne had addressed herself to Freda. 

Glad to get away from the distasteful topic 
they had been discussing, the girls began to ^lake 
their arrangements for the freshman frolic. 
After a little further talk, the five callers took 
their leave. 

"Well, what are we going to do about it?" de- 
manded Judith, the moment they had reached the 
street. "I agree with that nice Miss Benham. 
We can't aflFord to have a paper like that going 
the rounds of the college." 

"I will of my own accord go to the Prexy. He 
is of mon pire the old friend. He will not allow 
that such mischief should be done." 

Adrienne threateningly wagged her curly head» 
as she made this vengeful annoimcement. 

"Good for you. Imp!" lauded Judith. 

"I think either Prexy or Miss Rutledge ought 
to be told," concurred Ethel. "It would nip the 
whole business in the bud. There'll be more of 
this sort of thing if it isn't stopped right away. 

"Did you hear what I said, Jane?" she ques- 



ii8 JANE ALLEN 

tioned over her shoulder to Jane, who was walk- 
ing behind her with Norma. Ethel, Adrienne 
and Judith had taken the lead. 

"Yes, I heard. Let's wait until we get back to 
the Hall to talk this over,'* Jane grimly proposed. 
"We'll have time to settle it before the ten-thirty 
bell." 

"Come on, then. Forward march 1" ordered 
Judith. "The sooner we get there the longer 
we'll have to talk." 

This important point settled, a brisk hike to the 
Hall became the order. 

"Don't stop to talk to anyone," commanded 
Judith, as they scampered up the front steps. 
"Make a bee-line for our room. I'll hang out a 
'Busy' sign, so that we won't be disturbed." 

Five minutes later the "Busy" sign was in place 
and the key turned in the lock. 

"Three of us can sit on my couch. That means 
you. Imp and Ethel. Now, Jane and Norma, 
draw up your chairs. Aheml" Judith giggled. 
"What is the pleasure of this indignation meet- 
ing? You know what we think, Jane. Let's 
hear from you and Norma." 

"Oh, I haven't any voice in the matter," smiled 
Norma. "That is, I've no right to decide any- 
thing." 



RIGHT GUARD 119 

"Neither have I, but I'm speaking just the 
same," laughed EtheL "I say, 'On to Prexy 
with the horrible tale/ " 

"I think we'd best handle this affair if we can 
without the faculty's help," Jane said quietly. 
"If we went to anyone it ought to be Miss Rut- 
ledge. I'd rather not tell even her. I hate tell- 
ing tales." 

"I don't," disagreed Judith. "If we let it go 
without saying a word, we'U have trouble right 
along. It ought to be stamped out now/' 

"I intend that it shall be," Jane tersely as- 
sured. 

"How?" 

Judith's query rang with skepticism. 

"By going straight to Miss Noble and order- 
ing her to stop it," was Jane's determined reply. 
"I shall ask her to give me that paper." 

"A lot of good that will do." Judith gave a 
short laugh. "You might as well tell the wind 
to stop blowing." 

"It will do this much good," retorted Jane. 
"We shall give Miss Noble her choice between 
giving up that paper or being reported to the fac- 
ulty.'^ 

"Who's going to tell her aU this?" demanded 
Judith in a slightly ruffled tone. 



I20 JANE ALLEN 



"I am," returned Jane composedly. 

"'And I. I shall be there also/' instantly sup- 
ported Adrienne. 

"Very fine. It looks as though I'd be tiiere 
myself.*' 

Judith's annoyed expression vanished in a wide 
grin. 

"When do we do this valiant stunt?" she in- 
quired facetiously. "When does the great oflfen- 
sive take place?" 

"We'll have to put it oflF until to-morrow,'* 
Jane answered. "It's too late to do it to-night. 
We'U go to her just before dinner, or else right 
after. There won't be time enough in the morn- 
ing or at noon." 

"Suppose she won't let us inside her room?" 
argued Judith. 

"She isn't rooming alone," was Jane's re- 
minder. "I intend to see Alicia Reynolds to- 
morrow and find out just why she wouldn't talk 
to me the other day. I promised myself that I'd 
never ask her. But something I saw to-day 
makes me feel that I must. This Miss Noble 
has been making trouble between us. I'm con- 
vinced of that. It can't go on* The tangle be- 
tween Alicia and me must be i;traightened out 
by a frank imderstanding of what caused it. 



RIGHT GUARD 121 

Once that is done, Alicia will stand by us, I be- 
lieve." 

"But you said yourself that she'd gone back to 
Marian Seaton." 

Judith looked amazement of Jane's sudd^i 
change of opinion. 

"So I thought," admitted Jane, "until I saw 
her pass Marian on the campus to-day vnthout 
speaking. It came to me rigl^t then that only 
Miss Noble was to blame for the snub Alicia 
gave me. But I was too proud to run after 
Alicia and have it out with her. Now I'm going 
to do it" 



CHAPTER XIV 

OPENLY AND ABOTEBOABD 

WHEN Jane awoke the next morning 
her first thought crystalized into a de- 
termination to interview Alicia Rey- 
nolds before the day was over. Speculating as 
to her best opportmiity, she decided that it should 
be at the end of the morning recitations. 

For once she would cut her recitation in Hor- 
ace, which came the last hour in the morning. 
Alicia had no recitation at that hour. She would 
probably be in her room and alone. Jane also 
knew that Elsie Noble was occupied with a class 
at that time. 

If looks could have killed, Jane and Adrienne 
would imdoubtedly have been carried lifeless 
from the dining room that morning. At break- 
fast Elsie Noble's thin face wore an expression 
of spiteful resentment, which she made no effort 

122 



RIGHT GUARD 123 

to conceal. She was inwardly furious over her 
failure to rally the four Bridge Street freshmen 
to her standard. In consequence, she was more 
bitter against Jane and Adrienne than ever. 

It fiui;her increased her rancor to hear 
Adrienne prattling with child-like innocence to 
Dorothy Martin of the coming dance. 

Kiiowing very well what she was about, the lit- 
tle girl kept up a tantalizing chatter that was 
maddening in the extreme to the defeated plotter. 

Unacquainted with the true state of ajffairs, 
Dorothy's genuinely expressed interest in the 
Bridge Street girls merely added fuel to the &e. 

"Ah, but they are indeed delightful!'* Adrienne 
wickedly assiu'ed, her black eyes dancing with 
mischief. "We shall be proud of our freshmen, 
when we escort them to the dance. Shall we not, 
Jeanne?" 

"Yes, indeed. You must meet them, Dorothy. 
You'll like them all immensely. They're a splen- 
did, high-principled lot of girls." 

Signally amused by Adrienne's tactics, Jane 
could not resist this one little fling at her discom- 
fited tablemate. She hoped it would serve to en- 
lighten the latter in regard to at least one thing. 

Her second recitation, spherical trigonometry, 
over, Jane hurried across the campus toward the 



124 J^NE ALLEN 

Hall, keeping a sharp lookout for Alicia. It was 
just possible she might meet the latter on the 
campus. 

Reaching tlie veranda, Jane lingered tibere. 
If she could waylay Alicia as she came in, so much 
the better. With this idea paramount, she sat 
down in a high-backed porch rocker and waited. 
She could not help reflecting a trifle sadly that 
thus far her sophomore year had run anything 
but smoothly. She had looked forward to peace, 
whereas she was in the midst of strife. And all 
because Marian Seaton did not like her. That 
dislike dated back to her initial journey across 
the continent to Wellington. If she had not an- 
tagonized Marian then, she wondered if she and 
Marian would have become enemies. She de- 
cided that they must have. They had nothing 
whatever in common- 
Light, hurrying feet on the walk brought 
Jane's retrospective musings to an end. She saw 
Alicia a second before the latter saw her. 
Promptly rising, she headed Alicia off neatly as 
she gained the steps. 

"I want to speak to you, Alicia," she greeted 
evenly. "You must listen to me." 

''I have nothing to say to you. Please let me 
alone." 




"DON'T GO, ALICIA. LET'S GET TOGETHER AND STRAIGHTEN 

THINGS OUT." 
Jane Allen: Right Ouard. Page 1 25 



RIGHT GUARD 125 

A dull flush mantled Alicia's pale cheeks as 
she thus spoke. Her tones indicated injury 
rather than anger. 

"But I have something to say to you," persisted 
Jane. "I must know positively why you have 
turned against me. It's not fair in you to keep 
me in the dark. Do you think it is? What have 
I done to deserve such treatment?" 

Stopping on the step below Jane, Alicia stared 
hard at the quiet, purposeful face looking down 
on her. 

"I believed in you, Jane," she said sadly, with 
a little catch of breath. "You made me admire 
you. Then you spoiled it all. It hiui; me so, I 
— ^I — don't want to talk about it." 

She took an undecided step to the right, as 
though to pass Jane and flee into the house. 

"Don't go, Alicia. Let's get together and 
straighten things out." Jane laid a gentle hand 
on the other giri's arm. "I'm sure we can. You 
promised last year to be my f riend. Have you 
forgotten that?" 

"How can I be the friend of a girl who talks 
about me?" Alicia cried out bitterly. "A girl 
who only pretends friendship?" 

"So, that's it. I thought as much. Now tell 
me what I said about you." 



126 JANE ALLEN 

Something in Jane's steady glance caused 
Alicia's eyes to waver. 

**You told Ethel Lacey that you wished you 
didn't have to invite me to go with you girls to 
the Inn the other night, but you felt that you 
could hardly get out of it. That I expected you 
to do it. You know that's not true. I'd never 
intrude where I wasn't wanted." 

"Did Ethel tell you this?" Jane asked com- 
posedly. 

"No. Someone else overheard you say it," re- 
torted Alicia. 

"And that 'someone else'?" 

"I won't tell you. I promised I wouldn't." 

"You don't need to tell me, because I know/* 
Jane emphasized the know. "It's not true. I 
didn't say that. This is what I said." 

As well as she could recall it, she repeated the 
conversation that had taken place between herself 
and Ethel. 

"I asked Ethel to invite you because I didn't 
want you to go to your room," she explained^ 
"Miss Noble and I are not on speaking terms. 
Did you know that ?" 

"Yes, I knew it," Alicia admitted. "I was 
told it was yoiu* fault. I didn't believe it 
until " 



RIGHT GUARD 127 

She paused, uncertainty written large on every 
f eatiu'e. She had begun to glimpse the unworthi- 
ness of her doubts. 

"Until Miss Noble came to you with this un- 
truthful tale about me," finished Jane. 

Alicia was silent. She could not truthfully 
contradict this pertinent statement. 

"Which of us do you believe, Alicia?" 

Jane put the question with business-like direct- 
ness. 

Alicia mutely studied Jane*s resolute face. 
Honesty of pm-pose looked out from the long- 
lashed, gray eyes. She mentally contrasted it 
with another face; dark, spiteful and furtive. 

"I believe you. Forgive me, Jane." 

Her lips quivering, Alicia stretched forth a 
penitent hand. 

"There's nothing to forgive." 

Jane was quick to grasp the hand Alicia prof- 
fered. 

"I ought to have come straight to you," quav- 
ered the penitent. 

"I wish you had. Thank goodness, it's all right 
now. Let's sit down in the porch swing, AJicia. 
There are several things yet to be said and this is 
the time to say them." 

Her hand still in Alicia's, Jane gently pulled 



128 JANE ALLEN 

her toward the swing. When they had seated 
themselves, she continued: 

"I don't like to say things behind anyone's 
back, but in this case it's necessary. Miss Noble 
has started her freshman year as a trouble maker. 
She is very bitter against me for several reasons. 
When I came back to college, I foimd that Mrs. 
.Weatherbee had given her my room. She imder- 
stood that I was not coming to Madison Hall 
this year. I'm telling you this because I suspect 
that it is news to you." 

"It certainly w." Alicia showed evident siu*- 
prise. "I supposed Elsie Noble had been as- 
signed to room with me from the start. She 
never said a word about it to me." 

"She didn't want you to know it. I don't wish 
to explain why. I'll simply say that Mrs. Weath- 
crbee decided I had first right to the room. It 
made Miss Noble very angry. She came back to 
the room after she had left it. Adrienne, Judith 
and I were there. She made quite a scene. I 
hoped it would end there, but it hasn't. Since 
then she has tried to set not only you against me, 
but others also. She has circulated a paper 
among the freshmen against Judith, Adrienne 
and I which some of them have signed." 

"How perfectly terrible!" was Alicia's shocked 



RIGHT GUARD 129 

exclamAtion. "She certainly has kept very quiet 
about it to me. I never suspected such a thing." 

"I can*t see that it has done us much harm/' 
Jane dryly responded. "It*s come to a point, 
however, where we feel that wei ought to assert 
ourselves. We are here for study, not to quar- 
rel, but we won*t stand everything tamely." 

"I don't blame you. I wouldn't, either. I'm 
sure Marian Seaton is behind all this," declared 
Alicia hotly. "Ever since I came back to the 
Hall she's been trying to talk to me. Small good 
it will do her. When I broke friendship with her 
last year it was for good and all." 

"When you wouldn't speak to me the other 
day, I thought you had gone back to her," con- 
fessed Jane. "Just a little before that Dorothy 
and I had been saying that we thought we ought 
to try to make Marian see things diflFercntly. 
Afterward I was so angry I gave up the thought 
as hopeless. It may not be right to say to you, 
*Let Marian alone,' when one looks at it from one 
angle. The Bible says, Xove your enemies.' On 
the other hand, it seems wiser to steer clear of 
malicious persons. Marian is malicious. She'a 
proved that over and over again. No one but 
herself can make her diflFerent." 

"I know it's best for me to keep away from 



I30 JANE ALLEN 

her," asserted Alicia. "My influence wouldn't 
be one, two, three with her. Whenever I tried 
last year to be honest with myself she just 
sneered at me. It's either be like her or let her 
alone, in my case. There's no happy medium. 
So I choose to let her alone." 

"We all have to decide such things for our- 
selves," Jane said reflectively. "It seems too bad 
that Marian's so determined to be always on the 
wrong side. I've decided to let her stay there 
for the present. If this ajffair of the paper in- 
volved only myself, I'd probably do nothing 
about it. But it's not right to let Judith and 
Adrienne suflFer for something that's really meant 
for me." 

"What are you going to do?" inquired Alicia. 

"That's what I've been leading up to. With 
your permission I intend to have a reckoning with 
Miss Noble in your room. I'd like you to be 
there when it happens. Judith and Adrienne 
will be with me. Are you willing that it should 
be so?" 

"Yes, indeed," promptly answered Alicia. 
"When is the grand reckoning to be?" 

"This afternoon just before dinner. I can say 
my say in short order. Of coiu-se if she's not in, 
I'll have to postpone it until later*" 



RIGHT GUARD ijK 

"I can let you know as soon as she comes in 
from her last class/' volunteered Alicia. 

"No, I'd rather not have it that way." Jane 
smiled whimsically. "It's bad enough to have to 
go to work and deliberately plan this hateful 
business. It has to be gone through with. That's 
certain. We'll just take our chance of finding 
her in. When you hear us knock, I wish you'd 
open the door. It's all horrid, isn't it? I feel 
like a conspirator." 

Jane made a gestiu-e indicative of utter dis- 
taste for the purposed program. 

"It's honest, anyhow. It's not backbiting and 
imderhandedness," Alicia stoutly pointed out. 

"No, it isn't," Jane soberiy agreed. "That's 
the only thing that reconciles me to do it. It's 
dealing openly and aboveboard with treachery 
and spite." 



CHAPTER Xy 

THE HECS:ONING 

^^^^^XyiLAl We are ready. Let us ad- 

i J vancel" proclaimed Adrienne with a 

^^ smothered chuckle, when at ten minutes 

to six a determined trio left Adrienne's room on 

the fateful errand to the room next door. 

"Don't you dare giggle when we get in there,*' 
warned Judith in a whisper, as Jane rapped 
jsharply on the door. "We must n^ake an impos- 
ing appearance if we can," she added with a grin. 
"Who knows ? I may giggle myself.'* 

True to her word, it was Alicia who admitted 
them with, "Hello, girls I Come in." 

As the three entered, a figure lolling in a Mor- 
ris chair by the window sprang up with an angry 
exclamation. 

"I will not have these people in my room, 
Alicia Heynoldsl Do you hear me? I won't 1 

IJ2 



RIGHT GUARD 133 

Elsie ]!^oble had turned on Alicia, her small 
black eyes snapping. 

"Half this room happens to be mine/' tran- 
quilly reminded Alicia. "Have a seat, girls." 

"No, thank you. We won't stay long enough 
for that.'' Jane's tone was equally composed. 
**We came to see you. Miss Noble." 

"I won't stay," shrieked the enraged girl, and 
started for the door. 

Alicia reached it ahead of her. Calmly turn- 
ing the key, she dropped it into her blouse pocket. 

"Yes; you will stay, Elsie," she said with quiet 
decision. "You tried to make trouble between 
Jane and me. We've found you out. Now, 
you'll Usten to what Jane has to say to you. If 
you don't, you may be sorry." 

Her back against the locked door, Elsie Noble 
glared at her captors for an instant in speech- 
less f iny. Then she f oimd her voice again. 

"I'D report every one of you for thisl It's an 
outrage!" she shrilled. 

The threat lacked strength, however. A cow- 
ard at heart, she already stood in fear of the ac- 
cusing quartette which confronted her. 

"Just a moment. Miss Noble. We have no 
desire to detain you any longer than we can 
help." Jane's intonation was faintly satiricaL 



134 JANE ALLEN 

"We came here for two purposes. One is to tell 
you that you must stop making trouble for us 
among your classmates. You know what you 
have done. So do we. Don't do it again. I will 
also trouble you for that paper you have beea 
circulating among the freshmen.'* 

"I don't know what you're talking about,'* 
hotly denied the culprit. Her eyes, however, 
shifted imeasily from those of her accusers. 

"Oh, yes you do." Judith now took a hand. 
"You ought to know. Don't you remember? 
You began it, 'We the imdersigned,' and ended 
yoiur little stunt with the names of as many fresh- 
men as were foolish enough to listen to you." 

"You seem to think you know a whole lot,'* 
sneered Elsie. "I'm very siu^e not one of you 
ever saw such a paper as you describe." 

"We did not see it, but we know foiu* girls who 
did," Jane informed with quiet significance. 
"They were asked to sign it and refused. They 
are quite willing to testify to this should we see 
fit to take the matter to President Blakesly or 
Miss Rutledge." 

"You wouldn't dare do such a thing I" the cor- 
nered plotter cried out defiantly. "He — ^you — 
he wouldn't listen to such a — ^a — ^story as you're 
trying to tell. He has something better to do 



RIGHT GUARD 135 

than listen to gossiping sophomores. Miss Rut- 
ledge wouldn't listen, either/' 

"I don't think either President Blakesly or 
Miss Rutledge would refuse to listen to anything 
that had to do with one student's attempt to in- 
jure another," was Jane's grave response. 
**However, that is not the point. You must make 
up your mind either to give me that paper and 
yoiu* promise to stop your mischief -making, or 
else defend yourself as best you can to the f ac- 
tdty. Naturally, we would prefer to settle the 
matter here and without publicity. If it is car- 
ried higher, it will involve not only you, but all 
the others who signed the paper. If this con- 
cerned me alone, I would not be here. But I 
cannot allow my friends to suffer, simply because 
they are my friends." 

Jane delivered her ultimatum with a tense 
f orcef ulness that admitted of no further trifling. 

"I can't— I won't— I " floundered Elsie, 

now more afraid than angry. "How do I know 
that you wouldn't take it to President Blakesly 
if I gave it to you?" she demanded desperately. 

"Ah I She admits that she has it!" exclaimed 
Adrienne triimiphantly. The little girl had hith- 
erto kept silent, content to let Jane do the talk* 
ing. "She is of a truth quite droll." 



136 JANE ALLEN 

"Yes, I have it!" Elsie fiercely addressed Adri- 
enne. "I'm going to keep it, too, you horrid little 
torment." 

It was Jane who now spoke, and with a finality. 

"A moment more, please. I want to ask you 
two questions. Miss Noble. The first is: *How 
did you happ^ti to overhear the private conversa- 
tion between Miss Lacey and myself that you 
repeated so incorrectly to Alicia?* The second is : 
*How did you know that we intended to invite 
the Bridge Street girls to the freshman frolic?* 
We had mentioned it to no one outside, except 
Miss Marsh, who certainly did not tell you." 

"I won't answer either question," sputtered 
Elsie. "You can't make me tell you. You'll 
never know from me." 

"I was sure you wouldn't answer." Jane 
smiled scornfully. "I asked you merely because 
I wanted to call your attention to both instances. 
That's all. I'm sorry we can not settle this af- 
fair quietly. If you will kindly stand aside, 
Alicia will imlock the door." 

"I — ^you mustn't tell President Blakesly!" 

There was a hint of pleading in the protesting 
cry. Thoroughly cowed by the fell prospect she 
was now facing, Elsie crumpled. 

"You're mean, too — ^mean — ^for — ^anythingl" 



RIGHT GUARD 137 

she wailed, and burst into tears. "You — ought 
to be — ^ashamed — ^to — come — ^here — and — ^buUy 
me — ^like — ^this. I'll give you — ^the — ^paper — ^but 
— I'll hate you as long as I live, Jane Allen!" 

Sheer intensity of emotion steadied her voice 
on this last passionate avowal. 

Handkerchief to her eyes, she stumbled across 
the room to the chiffonier. Jerking open the top 
drawer, she groped within and drew forth a 
folded paper. Turning, she threw it at Jane with 
vicious force. It fluttered to the floor a few feet 
from where she stood. 

Very calmly Jane marched over and picked it 
up. Unfolding it, she glanced it over. 

"Please read it, girls," she directed, handing it 
to Judith. 

The latter silently complied and passed it to 
Adrienne, who in tiun gave it to Alicia. 

Alicia's face grew dark as she perused it. An 
angry spot of color appeared on each cheek. 

"How could you?" she said, her eyes resting on 
her room-mate in immeasurable contempt. 

"You did perfectly right in coming here, 
Jane," she conmiented, as she returned the paper 
to the latter. "I am ashamed to think I ever al- 
lowed this girl's spite to come between us. I 
should have known better." 



138 JANE ALLEN 

"It's all past. It won't happen again, Alicia* 
Now " 

With a purposeful hand Jane tore the ofiFend- 
ing paper to bits. Stepping over to the waste 
basket she dropped them into it. 

"This incident is closed," she sternly an- 
nounced to the sullen-faced author of the mis- 
chief. "You imderstand that there are to be no 
more of a similar nature involving us or any other 
girls here at Wellington?" 

"Yes," muttered Elsie, 

"Thank you." 

Jane had intended the "Thank you" to be her 
last word. Something in the expression of abject 
defeat that looked out from that lowering face 
stirred her to sudden pity. ' 

"I'm sorry this had to happen. Miss Noble," 
she said, almost gently. "There's only one thing 
to do; forget it. We intend to. Won't you? 
I'm willing to begin over again and " 

"Don't preach to me! I hate you! I'll never 
forgive you!" 

Out of defeat, resentment flared afresh. Dart- 
ing past the group of girls, Elsie Noble gained 
the door which was now unlocked. She flashed 
from the room slanmtiing the door behind her with 
a force that threatened to shake it from its hinges. 



RIGHT GUARD 139 

"Some little tempest," cheerfully averred 
Judith, ''^Jane, let me congratulate you. You 
did the deed." 

"Don't congratulate me." Jane scowled 
fiercely. "I feel like — ^well, just what she said 
I was — a bully. She's not so much to blame. 
She's a poor little cat's-paw for Marian Seaton." 

"She's to blame for letting herself be influenced 
by Marian," disagreed Judith. "How do you 
suppose she found out about oiw going to invite 
the Bridge Street freshmen to the dance?" 

"She must have, of a certainty, listened at our 
door," declared Adrienne. 

"I don't beheve she could hear a thing that 
way," disagreed Judith. "These doors are heavy. 
The sound doesn't go through them. Besides, she 
couldn't stand outside and eavesdrop long with- 
out being noticed by some one passing through 
the hall. Girls are always coming and going, you 
know." 

"Yet how could she otherwise know these 
things?" insisted Adrienne. 

"Give it up." Judith shook her head. "It's a 
mystery. She knew them. Maybe some day 
we'll know how she learned. We'll probably find 
out when we least expect to. Just stumble upon 
it long after we've forgotten all about it." 



T^ 



CHAPTER XVI 

VLATDHQ CAVAUEB 

• 

HAT evening after dinner, Jane in- 
I dulged in one of her dark, floor-tramp- 

•*• ing moods. The disagreeable interview 
of the afternoon had left a bad taste in her moutii. 
She had done what she had deemed necessary, but 
at heart she was intensely disgusted with herself. 

She wondered what Dorothy Martin would 
have done, given the same circumstances. She 
longed to tell Dorothy all about/ it, yet she felt 
that it belonged only to those whom it directly 
concerned. 

"Do sit down and behave, Jane," admonished 
Judith. "You make me nervous. Your tramp, 
tramp, tramp gets into my head and I can't study. 
You act as though you'd committed a murder 
and hidden the body in the top drawer of the 
chiffonier." 

140 



RIGHT GUARD 141^ 

"Excuse me, Judy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean 
to disturb you. I guess the whole affair has got- 
ten on my nerves.'* 

With this apology, Jane sought a chair and 
made a half-hearted attempt at study. Gradu- 
ally she drew her mind from unpleasant thoughts 
and proceeded to concentrate it upon her lessons 
for the next day. 

It was not until she and Judith were preparing 
for bed that the latter re-opened the subject. 

"Adrienne and I tried a little stunt of our own 
after dinner to-night," she confessed somewhat 
sheepishly. "Imp went into her room and I stood 
outside the door. She read a paragraph out loud 
from a book, but I coxildn't imderstand a word 
she said. I could just catch the sound of her 
voice and that was all." 

"Humph 1" was Jane's sole reply. 

"Yes, *humph' if you want to. It goes to 
show that the ignoble Noble never got her infor- 
mation that way. The question is, 'How did she 
get it?'" 

"I don't know and I dcm't care," returned Jane 
wearily. "Please, Judy, I want to forget the 
whole thing." 

"I don't. I'm going to be an investigating in- 
vestigator and solve the mystery. Watch slip- 



142 JANE ALLEN 

pery Judy, the dauntless detective of Madison 
Hall. Leave it to her to puzzle out the puzzle." 

"Better forget it," advised Jane shortly. 

"Oh, never! Let me have at least one worthy 
object in life, won't you?" was Judith's blithe 
plea. "Never mind. Imp will support and ad- 
mire my ambition, even if you don't." 

Judith was not in the least cast down by the de- 
feat of an imworthy foe. She was glad of it. 
Brought up among girls, she was too much used 
to such squabbles to take them to heart. 

For the next three days she and Adrienne 
amused themselves by planning wild schemes to 
entrap the "ignoble Noble" and wring from her 
a confession of her nefarious methods. So wild, 
indeed, were their projects that the mere discus- 
sion of them invariably sent them into peals of 
laughter. 

As a matter of fact, neither could devise a 
plausible scheme by which they might discover 
what they bimied to know. Both were agreed 
that chance alone would put them in possession 
of the much desired information. 

Wednesday evening of the following week saw 
Jane, Adrienne, Judith and Norma set off in a 
taxicab for 605 Bridge Street to escort their new 
friends to the freshman frolic. 



RIGHT GUARD 143 

Due to the demand for taxieabs for that even- 
ing, they had been able to secure only one, 
whereas they needed two. They had decided to 
overcome this diflSculty by having the driver 
make two trips, carrying foiw girls at each 
trip. 

According to Judith, "We could all squeeze 
into one taxi, but I have too much respect for my 
costly apparel to risk it/' 

The quartette of escorting sophomores made 
a pretty picture that evening as they trooped 
down the steps of the Hall to the waiting taxi- 
cab. 

Jane had chosen a particularly stumning frock 
of silver tissue, worn over a foundation of dull 
green satin. In lieu of flowers, a single beautiful 
spray of English ivy trailed across one white 
shoulder. The gown was the handsomest she 
owned and she had originally intended to save it 
for a later festivity. Realizing that she must in- 
evitably become a target for the displeased eyes 
of those who disliked her, she had decided that so 
far as apparel went she would leave no room for 
criticism. 

Adrienne, who loved daring colors, had elected 
to appear in a chiffon creation, the exact shade of 
an American Beauty rose. It set off her dark. 



144 JANE ALLEN 

vivid loveliness to perfection. Designed by her- 
self, it had been fashioned by a French woman 
who attended to the making of her distinguished 
mother's gowns. In consequence, it was a tri- 
umph of its kind. As a last touch, a cluster of 
short-stemmed American Beauties nestled 
against the low-cut bodice of the gown. 

Judith looked charming in a white net over 
apricot taffeta with a bunch of sunset roses tucked 
into the black velvet ribbon sash that completed 
the costume. 

Norma was wearing the becoming blue and 
white gown Jane had given her the previous year. 
Since that first eventful freshman dance, when 
Jane had played fairy godmother to her, she had 
worn the exquisite frock only once. Now it 
looked as fresh and dainty as it had on that im- 
memorial night. Trimmed as it was with clusters 
of velvet forget-me-nots. Norma wore no natural 
flowers. 

Though she had by her simnmier*s work in the 
stock company earned immunity from drudgery, 
she had earned no more than that. With the ex- 
ception of this one gown, she dressed almost as 
simply as in the old days. She confined her ward- 
robe to one or two serviceable cme-piece dresses, 
a coat suit and a quantity of dainty white silk 



RIGHT GUARD 145 

blouses and lingerie. These last were fashioned 
and laundered by her own clever fingers. 

"I hope we're not too fine for our girls,'* 
Noitma remarked anxiously as the four skipped, 
one after the other, from the taxicab at the 
Bridge Street address. 

"I thought of that, too, but I decided that 
they'd like it if we looked our very smartest. 
They are too independent to feel crushed by a 
mere matter of fine clothes,'' was Jane's opinion. 

The frank admiration with which the four 
freshmen exclaimed over their gorgeous escorts 
served to point to the accuracy of her opinion. 

"You're regular birds of Paradise!" laughed 
Freda. "We are certainly lucky to capture such 
prizes. We're not a bit splendiferous, oiwselves. 
But then, why should we be? It wouldn't match 
with our humble status." 

"You look sweet, every one of you," praised 
Judith. "Your gowns are dear. They are won- 
derfully becoming." 

"We made them ourselves last summer," ex- 
plained Kathie with a little air of pride. "We 
clubbed together and bought a bolt of this white 
Persian lawn. Ida crocheted these butterfly 
medallions set in Freda's gown and mine. Then 
Marie embroidered the designs on hers and Ida's 



146 JANE ALLEN 

gowns. Each dress is a little diflFerent from the 
other, yet they all look pretty much alike/' 

"They are all beautiful," Jane wannly as- 
sured. 

She could say so in absolute truth. Simple, 
graceful lines, combined with dainty hand- 
wrought trimmings had produced four frocks 
which would have sold at a high price in an ex- 
clusive city dress shop* 

"Ah, but you are the clever ones!" bubbled 
Adrienne. "It is we who must be proud of you. 
I would that ma mhre could see these frocks. 
She would, of a certainty, rave with the delight. 
Ma mere, you must know, is the true French- 
woman who appreciates highly the beautiful 
handwork such as this." 

"You rather take us oft our feet," smiled 
Marie. "We were not expecting it, you know." 

The brightness in her own eyes was reflected in 
that of her chimis. Girl-like, they found exquis- 
ite happiness in being thus appreciated. 

"We'd better be starting," Jane presently pro- 
posed. "We could get only one taxi, so foiw of 
us will have to go first and four more in a second 
load." 

Jane's anxiety to be starting lay not entirely 
in her natural impatience of delay. She was not 



RIGHT GUARD 147 

quite easy in mind regarding the reception 
awaiting them. Marian Seaton had been chosen 
to stand in the receiving line. That in itself was 
sufficient to make her believe that the earlier the 
ordeal of formal greeting could be gone through 
with the better it would be for all concerned. 

She did not doubt that Marian was in full pos- 
session of the facts concerning her cousin's recent 
defeat. It would be exactly like Marian to create 
a disagreeable scene. If this had to happen, she 
preferred that it should take place before the 
majority of the crowd arrived. 

She had expressed this fear to Judith who had 
scouted at the idea on the grounds that Marian 
"wouldn't be crazy enough to make an idiot of 
herself before everybody." 

"You and Adrienne go first with your ladies, 
Judy," she continued- "If you don't mind, I 
wish you'd wait in the corridor for the rest of us. 
We'll be only a few minutes behind you." 

"It's just like this, girls," she turned to the four 
freshmen. "I'm not borrowing trouble, but if 
any of the sophs in the receiving line act-r-well — 
not very cordial, you needn't be surprised. It 
will be because of that paper you girls wouldn't 

sign. I hadn't mentioned it before, but " 

Jane paused. "The girl gave it to us. We de- 



148 JANE ALLEN 

stroyed it/' she added with a briefness that did 
not invite questioning. 

"I'm glad you destroyed it," congratulated 
Freda. 

"So am I," came in concert from her three 
chums. 

"We're not a bit sensitive," lightly assured Ida 
Leonard. "We aren't going to let a few snubs 
spoil our good time." 

"I guess we'll be sufficient unto ourselves," 
predicted Kathie optimistically. "Now we'd 
better get our flowers, pals, so as not to keep our 
distinguished cavaliers waiting." 

^Excusing themselves, the quartette of fresh- 
men repaired to the tiny back porch, where the 
four bouquets of roses sent them by their escorts 
had been carefully placed in water to keep them 
fresh against the time of use. 

"They are awfully thoroughbred, aren't they?" 
commented Judith in an imdertone. "Never a 
question about that ignoble Noble mix-up. Hon- 
estly, Jane, do you think Marian will behave like 
a donkey?" 

Laughter greeted this inquiry. Jane immedi- 
ately grew grave. 

"It wouldn't siu-prise me," she shrugged. 
"We can't expect, naturally, that she will notice 



RIGHT GUARD 149 

us as we pass her in the receiving line. Certainly 
we sha'n't notice her. If only she doesn't say 
something hateful to us that will attract atten- 
tion. I mean, about our freshmen.*' 

The retiun into the room of the latter, each 
laden with a big bouquet of fragrant roses, cut 
short the conversation. 

Half an hour and the eight girls were reunited 
in the corridor leading to the gymnasium. Each 
cavalier gallantly offering an arm to the fresh- 
man of her choice, they walked two by two into 
the gjrmnasium, which had been transformed for 
the night into a veritable ball room. It was al- 
ready fairly well filled with daintily gowned 
girls, who stood about, or sat in little groups, 
talking animatedly. 

Near the entrance to the room, the reception 
committee were lined up in all their glory. Jane's 
quick glance discerned Marian Seaton, resplend- 
ent in an elaborate gown of pale blue satin, stand- 
ing at the far end of the line. Her usually arro- 
gant features wore an expression of fatuous 
complacency. It took wing the instant she spied 
Jane and her friends. 

"Now it's coming," was Jane's mental convic- 
tion, as she noted the swift lowering change in 
the other girl's face. 



150 JANE ALLEN 

Heading the little procession with Ida Leon- 
ard, Jane suddenly saw her way clear. She could 
only hope that the others of her group would 
take their cue from her. 



1 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE EAVESDROPPEE 

POLITELY responding to the greetings 
extended to herself and Ida as they ad- 
vanced down the line, they came at last to 
the girl who stood next to Marian. The instant 
Jane had touched hands with the former she drew 
Ida's arm within her own and turned abruptly 
away, without giving Marian time to do more 
than glare angrily after her. Jane realized very 
well that what she had done was in the nature of a 
rudeness, yet she felt that under the circum- 
stances it was justifiable. 

To her great relief, Judith, ""Adrienne and 
Ethel did precisely the same thing. 

"Well, we came through with our heads still 
on," congratulated naughty Judith in Jane's ear, 
the moment they had won clear of the fateful 
receiving line. "Clever little Janie. I saw and 



152 JANE ALLEN 

I heeded. Our dear Marian looked ready to bite. 
I think she would have snapped anyway, if we'd 
given her half a chance. Grood thing she was pn 
the end. I'm sure nobody noticed." 

"I hope no one did," Jane sighed. "I hated to 
do it. I think, too, she intended to be hateful. 
I saw it in her face, so I just slid away without 
giving her a chance. I'm glad that ordeal's over. 
Now I must find some partners for Ida. The 
dancing wiU soon begin." 

This proved an easy task. Whatever might be 
freshman opinion of Jane Allen, she had more 
friends among the sophomores than she had be- 
lieved possible. In touch socially with her class 
for the first time since her return to Wellington, 
she was amazed at the smiling faces and gay 
greetings which she met at every turn. 

It had a wonderfully cheering effect on her, 
coming as it did on the heels of the recent fresh- 
man demonstration of ill-will. It gave her a 
thrill of intense happiness. She resolved to put 
away every vexatious thought and enjoy the 
frolic with all her might. 

That she had successfully put her resolution 
into effect was evidenced by her bright eyes and 
laughing lips when, two hours afterward, she and 
Judith seated themselves on a wicker settee after 



RIGHT GUARD 153 

a one-step which they had danced together for 
old time's sake. 

"I'm having a splendiferous timel' glowed Ju- 
dith. "You can see for yourself how much that 
old paper amounted to. Most of these freshmen 
have been lovely to me. IVe steered clear of the 
ones who looked doubtful. IVe had a few scowls 
handed to me. It's been easy to pick out the 
ignoble Noble's satellites by their freezing stares. 
I wonder who escorted our noble little friend? 
Cousin Marian, no doubt," she added, with her 
ever-ready chuckle. 

"No doubt," was Jane's dry repetition. "Let's 
go and get some lemonade, Judy," she proposed 
irrelevantly. "Just watching that crowd around 
the pimch bowl makes me thirsty." 

"I'm in need of a few cups of lemonade my- 
self," ccmcurred Judith amiably. 

Attempting to rise, an ominous ripping sound 
informed Jane that Judith had been uncon- 
sciously sitting on a fold of the silver tissue over- 
dress to her gown. 

"Oh, what a shame! I didn't know I was sit- 
ting on your overskirt, Jane. That's too badl" 

Juditii hastily got to her feet to ruefully in- 
spect the amount of damage she had done. 

"It's nothing," Jane assured lightly. "Let's 



154 J^NE ALLEN 

drink our lemonade and then go over to the dress- 
ing room. I can pin this tear so it will stay, I 
guess. The gathers are only ripped out a 
Uttle." 

Having drunk two cups of lemonade apiece, 
they strolled on toward the dressing roouL It 
was the little side room the freshman team had 
used ihe previous year when playing basket-ball. 

Nor were they aware, as they crossed the wide 
room, arm in arm, that a certain pair of pale blue 
eyes jealously watched them. As they disap- 
peared through the dressing-room door, Marian 
Seaton hurried after them, disagreeable purpose 
written on her face. 

Quite oblivious to the fact that she was one of 
a welcoming committee, she had fully intended to 
say something cutting to Jane when the latter 
should arrive that evening in the gymnasium. 
Having missed one opportunity she did not pro- 
pose to miss a second. This time Jane Allen 
should hear what she had to say. 

At the slightly opened door she heard words 
which brought her to an abrupt halt. It was not 
the first time she had listened at that selfsame 
door. Edging close, she turned her back to it. 

Facing the big room, her pale eyes roved over 
it with studied carelessness. Her ears, however. 



RIGHT GUARD 155 

were sharply trained to catch the sound of two 
voices that drifted plainly out to her. 

Meanwhile Judith, unaware of listeners, was 
gayly remarking as she pinned up the tear in 
Jane's overdress: 

"This reminds me of the tear in the white lace 
dress that caused such a fuss last year. It was a 
good thing you were around to help Norma out 
of that mix-up. If it hadn't been for you, Edith 
Hammond would have gone straight to Mrs. 
Weatherbee and told her that it was Norma who 
stole her dress. I must say, Edith acted splen- 
didly about it afterward. I never thought she 
had it in her to do as she did." 

"Things looked pretty black for poor Norma 
that day imtil I made things right with Edith," 
reminisced Jane. "She was determined to make 
Norma give back her dress when all the 
while " 

"It was Judy Steams who had really stolen 
it," merrily supplemented Juditii. 

"I'll never forget Edith's face when I told her 
I was sorry to say that the real thief was Judith 
Steams," laughed Jane. 

"I was the thief, all right enough, but only a 
few people knew it. Alas, my fatal failing 1" 
grinned Judith. "There I I guess that will stay. 



156 7ANE ALLEN 

Let's go. I hear the enliyening strains of a fox 
trot. That means us." 

It also meant to the listener outside that her 
time of eavesdropping wks up. Before the two 
oecupants of the dressing room had reached the 
door Marian Seaton had hurried away from it, 
her original intention quite forgotten. 



CHAPTER XVIII 



DIVIDING THE HONOBS 



ONCE the sophomores had done their duty 
in the way of entertaining their fresh- 
men sisters, they promptly turned to 
their own affairs. 

Following the freshman frolic a busy week of 
sophomore electioneering set in. It was suc- 
ceeded by a class meeting that barely escaped 
being a quarrel. 

At least a third of the class had, it appeared, 
enlisted under Marian Seaton's banner. These 
ardent supporters who had espoused her cause 
in the previous year and had been defeated, again 
came to the front with belligerent energy. 
Though lacking in nimabers, they were strong in 
disagreeable opposition. 

Christine Ellis' nomination of Judith Steams 
for president, which was seconded by Alicia 

IS7 



158 JANE ALLEN 

Reynolds, caused one after another of Marian's 
adherents to rise to their feet in hot objecticm. 
For five minutes or more the chairman of the 
nomination committee had her hands full in sub- 
duing the rebels. 

Stung by the insult, Judith arose, white with 
righteous wrath, to decline the nomination. Re- 
peated cries of, "Sit down, Judy. We want you 
for our president I" "What's the matter with 
Judy? She's all right I" and, "Judy Steams or 
nobody!" drowned the refusal she strove to utter. 
In the end she threw up her hands in a gesture 
of despair and sat down, amid approving cheers 
from her triumphant supporters. 

The nomination of Alicia Reynolds as vice- 
presMent was hardly less opposed by the other 
faction, though it was carried in spite of protest. 
With deliberate intent to shame, Barbara Tem- 
ple calmly nominated Maizie Gilbert as treasurer, 
thereby astounding the objectors to momentary 
dimibness. They soon rallied, however, and one 
of their number hastily seconded the nomination, 
which was carried. 

Emboldened to action, Maizie promptly nomi- 
nated Leila Brookes, one of her friends, for sec- 
retary. This nomination was avidly seconded by 
another of Marian's adherents and also carried. 



RIGHT GUARD 159 

Having won their point against unworthy oppo- 
sition, the majority could afford to be generous. 

The final result of the election found honors 
equally divided between the two sets of girls, a 
condition of affairs which promised anything but 
a peaceful year for 19 — . 

Gathered at Rutherford Inn that evening for 
a spread in honor of Judith, given by Christine 
and Barbara, the latter expressed herself frankly 
in regard to the afternoon's proceedings. 

"That class meeting was as nearly a riot as 
could be," she declared disgustedly. "I expected 
to engage in hand-to-hand combat before it 
ended. I thought the best way to shame that 
crowd was to give them the chance they didn't 
want to give us." ^ 

"They snapped at it, too," Christine Ellis said 
scornfully. 

"I'll never forgive you girls for making me 
president when I didn't want to be," was Judith's 
rueful assertion. 

"We would never have forgiven you if you 
liad backed out," retorted Ethel Lacey. 

"I didn't have the least word to say about it* 
Nobody would listen to me." 

Judith's comical air of resignation provoked a 
laugh. 



i6o 7ANE ALLEN 

"You should tEiis be pleased that you are well- 
liked, Judy," asserted Adrienne. "And Alicia, 
here, we were delighted with your success, ma 
cherey 

"I never dreamed of being nominated." A 
faint color stole into Alicia's pale face. "I'd 
much rather it had been one of you girls." 

*Tm heartily glad I was out of it all," declared 
Jane with emphasis. "There's only one thing I 
really want this year in the way of college hon- 
ors." 

"To make the sophomore team?" asked 
Christine. 

"Yes." 

An eager light sprang into Jane's gray eyes. 

"You'll make it, Jane," predicted Barbara. 
"You can outplay us all. Some of us are going 
to lose out, though. There are fire of us here 
who are going to try for it. Judy, Adrienne, you, 
Christine and I. Of course we can't all make it. 
Quite a lot of sophs are going to try for it this 
year besides us. Marian Seaton will be one of 
them, I suppose." 

"She'll make it, if any of her friends happen 
to be judges at the try-out," commented Judith 
sagely. "I hope Dorothy Martin will be chosen 
as one of the judges. She can be depended upon 



RIGHT GUARD 161^ 

to do the fair thing. Miss Hurley was awfully 
unfair last year. I wish Dorothy'd be chosen as 
our manager." 

"We ought to do a little practicing, girls," 
urged Jane. "Let's start in to-morrow after- 
noon, provided we can have the gym. I under- 
stand the freshman team have been monopolizing 
it ever since their try-out last week. 

"Who's on the freshman team?" asked Ethel 
curiously. 

"I don't know. Haven't been over to see them 
work," Jane replied. "Have any of you?" She 
glanced about the rouiid table at her friends. 

A general shaking of heads revealed the fact 
that no one had. 

"It's queer, but somehow I can't get interested 
in the freshmen," confided Barbara Temple. 
"A lot of them acted awfully stand-offish toward 
me on the night of the dance/* 

"I noticed the same thing I" exclaimed Chris- 
tine in sm-prise. "I thought it was my imagina- 
tion. Those four girls you folks brought were 
sweet, though." 

"They are dandy girls," interposed Judith 
hastily, and immediately launched forth in praise 
of the Bridge Street freshmen. 

Though she could have very quickly explained 



i6« JANE ALLEN 

»■ I I . ...... 

the strained attitude of the freshman class to 
Christine and Barbara, she held her peace. She 
decided, however, to have a talk that night with 
Jane. It was not fair that these two loyal friends 
should be kept in the dark about what bade fair 
to affect them unpleasantly. 

That she was not alone in her opinion becam^e 
manifest when, toward nine o'clock, Alicia, Ethel, 
Adrienne, Jane and herself bade Christine and 
Barbara good night and went on across the cam- 
pus toward Madison HalL 

"Jane," began Judith abruptly, "I think we 
ought to tell Christine and Barbara about that 
freshman business. I didn't want to say a word 
imtil I'd put it up to you girls." 

"Yes, I suppose we ought to tell them." Jane 
spoke almost wearily. "I didn't say anything 
about 1% to-night because I hated to drag it all 
up again. If you see either of the girls to-mor- 
row, Judy, you'd better explain matters. I don't 
want to. I'm sick of the whole business." 

"I'm heartily sick of my room-mate. I can 
tell you that," said Alicia. "If I had known 
when that girl walked into my room that she was 
Marian Seaton's cousin I should have refused to 
room with her. She's completely imder Marian's 
thumb. Whatever Marian tells her to do she 



RIGHT GUARD 163 

does. You'd think after what happened the other 
day that she'd be too angry ever to speak to me 
again. Well, she isn't. She tries to talk to me 
whenever we're together. She told me yesterday 
that I had made a terrible mistake in giving up 
Marian for you girls." 

"Marian put her up to that," declared Judith. 

**Of course she did," nodded Alicia. "Elsie 
had the nerve to tell me that Marian felt dread- 
fully over the horrid way I'd treated her. She 
blames Jane for it, and says she'll get even with 
her for it. I blame myself for being so hateful 
last year. Jane showed me how to be the person 
I'd always wanted to be, but was too cowardly 
then to be it." 

"Jane is of us all the loyal friend," broke in 
Adrienne. "Sometimes she wears the fierce 
scowl and has the look of the lion, yet I am not 
afraid of her. See, even now she scowls, but she 
will not eat us. She scowls thus to hide the em- 
barrassment." 

The bright moonlight betrayed plainly the 
deep scowl between Jane's brows to which Adri- 
enne had called attention. 

"Imp, you're a rascal." Jane's brows immedi- 
ately smoothed themselves. "You know alto- 
gether too much about me. I was embarrassed. 



i64 'JANE ALLEN 

That's a fact. What Alicia said made me feel 
rather queer because I don't think I deserved it. 
I can't be the person I want to be myself, let 
alone showing anybody else. That's what has 
been bothering me right along. I'd like to be 
able to rise above caring whether or not Marian 
Seaton tries to get even with me." 

"You can't do it, Jane, and be just to your- 
self," Alicia said very positively. "I know 
Marian a great deal better than I wish I did. 
She'll never stop trying to work against you as 
long as you're both at Wellington. She'll never 
let a chance slip to make trouble for you. I'd 
advise you to be on your guard and the very next 
time she tries anything hateful, go to Miss Rut- 
ledge with the whole story of the way she's 
treated you ever since you came to college." 

"I couldn't do that. Not for myself, I mean. 
If it were something hateful she'd done to one of 
you girls, I could. I would have truly gone to 
Miss Rutledge or even Prexy with that paper, 
because it was injurious to Judy and Imp; not 
because of myself." 

"Never mind, Jane. I am here to protect 
you," Judith reminded gaily. "I'd fight for you 
as quickly as you'd fight for me. Just remember 
that." 



RIGHT GUARD 165 

Judith began the httle speech lightly. She 
ended with decided purpose. 

"I know it, Judy." 

Walking as she was beside her roommate, Jane 
slipped an aflFectionate hand within Judith's 
arm. 

"If Marian plays on the team with you girls, 
then look out,'' further advised Alicia. "She'll 
do something to stir up trouble, you may depend 
upon it. I know I'm croaking, but I can't help 
it." 

"Wait till she makes the team," grinned 
Judith. "She may find herself outplayed at the 
try-out. If she does, httle Judy won't weep. 
No, indeed. I'll give a grand celebration in honor 
of the joyful event." 

"I, also, will shed few tears," Adrienne drily 
concurred. "Ah, but I shall look forward to that 
most grand celebration! So at last this very 
wicked Marian shall perhaps be the cause of some 
little pleasure to us." 

Jane could not resist joining in the laugh that 
greeted this naive assertion. She wished she 
could feel as little concern about the matter as 
did Judith and Adrienne. Ahcia's warning 
against Marian had taken hold on her more 
strongly than she could wish. 



i66 JANE ALLEN 



To Jane it seemed almost in the nature of a 
prophesy of disaster. She f omid herself ' in- 
wardly hoping with her friends that Mariaa 
would not make the team. Instantly she put it 
aside as unworthy of what die, Jane Allen, de- 
sired to be. A good pioneer must forge ahead^ 
surmoimting one by one each obstacle that rose 
in the path. Again it came to Jane in that mo- 
ment, out under the stars, that it could make no 
diflFerence to her what Marian Seaton did or did 
not do to her, so long as she, an intrepid pioneer, 
steadily kept to work at clearing her own bit of 
college land. 

She had earlier expressed this conviction to 
Dorothy. Later it had been swept away by bit- 
ter doubts as to whether she could continue to 
maintain a lofty indiflference toward Marian's 
spiteful activities. Would she be obliged event- 
ually to descend to Marian's level and fight her 
with her own weapons ? She had more than once, 
of late, darkly considered the question. Now die 
knew that so long as Marian's spleen directed 
itself against her, and her alone, she could never 
do it. She would fight for her friends, but never 
for herself. 



CHAPTER XIX 



BANS INJUSTICE 



AT half -past four o'clock on the Wednes- 
day following the sophomore class elec- 
tions, the sophomore basket-ball try- 
out took place in the gymnasiiim. Twenty girls 
of the sophomore class had elected to enter the 
lists, while the usual number of freshmen and 
upper class spectators lined the walls of the big 
room. 

Among the ten bloomer-clad girls who were 
finally picked for the deciding tussle, five wore 
the dark grieen uniforms that had identified them 
the previous year as the oflSeial freshman team. 
TTiey were Judith, Jane, Adrienne, Christine 
Ellis and Marian Seaton. Among the other five 
contestants, Barbara Temple and Olive Hurst, 
both of last year's practice team, had survived. 
The other three girls were disappointed aspirants 

167 



i68 JANE ALLEN 

of the previous year's try-out, who had sturdily 
returned to the lists for a try at making the 
sophomore team. 

When the shrill notes of the whistle sent the 
ten into deciding action, it became immediately 
evident that it would be nip and tuck as to the 
winners. In every girlish heart lived the strong 
determination to be among the elect. In conse- 
quence, the zealous ten treated the spectators to 
a most spirited exhibition of basket-ball 
prowess. 

When it had ended, the players ran oflf the 
floor, breathlessly to await the verdict. With the 
exception of two of them, opinion was divided. 
Regarding these two, there was no doubt in the 
minds of the watchers that Jane Allen and Adri- 
enne Dupree, at least, had made the team. They 
were distinctly eligible. 

Each in her own fashion had shown actual 
brilliancy of playing. The others had done ex- 
tremely well. How well was a matter which 
must be left to the three judges to decide. 

While the ten impatiently waited for the deci- 
sion, over in the judges' comer a spirited dis- 
cussion was going on between Dorothy Martin 
and the two seniors who were officiating with her 
in the capacity of judges. One of them, Selina 



RIGHT GUARD 169 

Brown, had already been appointed as basket- 
ball manager of the teams for the year. 

"I do not agree with you, Miss Brown," Dor- 
othy was protesting, her fine face alive with 
righteous vexation. "In my opinion. Miss 
Steams has completely outplayed Miss Seaton. 
In fact she has always been the better player of 
the two. Granted, Miss Seaton is an excellent 
player, but Miss Steams outclasses her. I say 
this in absolute fairness. Try them out again and 
you will see, even if you don't now." 

"I am sorry to be obliged to diflFer with you 
regarding Miss Steams, but Miss Seaton must be 
my first and last choice. Miss Nelson quite 
agrees with me. Do you not?" 

She turned triumphantly to the third judge 
for corroboration. 

"I — ^really — ^yes, I think Miss Seaton is the 
better player." 

The reply, begun hesitatingly, went on to 
firmness. Laura Nelson had the grace to color 
slightly, however, as she made it. Indebted to 
Marian Seaton for several rides in the latter's 
limousine, as well as hospitable entertainment at 
Rutherford Inn, she felt compelled to stand by 
at the critical moment. She had been privately 
given to understand beforehand that Marian 



I70 JANE ALLEN 

was to make the team, whoever else failed. 

"The majority rules, I believe. Miss Martin.'* 

A disagreeable smile hovered about Miss 
Brown's thin lips as she said this. 

"It does, but " Patent contempt looked 

out from Dorothy's steady eyes. 

"But what?" sharply challenged Selina 
Brown. 

"It is an unfiur majority," was the quiet accu- 
sation. "As the other four players have been 
chosen, I will leave you to make the amiounce- 
ment." 

So saying, Dorothy turned abruptly and 
walked away, too greatly incensed to trust her- 
self longer in the company of the pair whom she 
had flatly accused of unfairness. Straight across 
the gymnasium she walked to where Judith, 
Jane, Christine, Barbara and Adrienne stood, an 
eager group. 

"Girls," she said, in a wrathfully impressive 
voice, "I'm going to stand here beside you. 
When the announcement of the team is made 
you'll understand why." 

"What's the matter, Dorothy?" anxiously 
questioned Christine. 

Four pairs of eyes riveted themselves wonder- 
ingly on Dorothy's flushed, indignant face* 



RIGHT GUARD 171 

None of the quartette had ever before seen 
sweet-tempered Dorothy Martin so manifestly 
angry. Something of an imusual nature must 
have happened. 

"Don't ask me now. Listen 1" 

A loud blast from the whistle, held to Selina 
Brown's lips, was now enjoining silence. Imme- 
diately after the sound had died away, a hush 
fell upon the great room as the senior manager 
stepped forward and announced: 

"For the official sophomore team the follow- 
ing players have been chosen: Adrienne Dupree, 
Barbara Temple, Christine Ellis, Jane Allen, 
and Marian Seaton. To act as subs : Olive Hurst 
and Marjory Upton." 

Immediately she went on with a speech, meant 
to^ be politely consoling to the defeated con- 
testants. 

A faint, concerted gasp arose from the little 
group collected about Dorothy. This, then, was 
the explanation of Dorothy's indignation. 

"It's an outrage I I'm going to protest I" 
muttered Jane, her tones thick with wrath. 
^'No, I'm going to refuse to play on the team." 

"And I also," echoed Adrienne hotly. 

"Let's do it!" urged Christine, catching Bar- 
bara by the arm. "Right now, before that Miss 



172 JANE ALLEN 

Brown gets through with her hypocritical 
speech." 

"No, girls, you mustn't. I — ^I — don't — ^want 
you to," quavered Judith. 

**We Ve got to, Judy I It's rank inj ustice, piled 
high I" declared Christine tempestuously. 

"If you do— I'U hate all of you I" Judith des- 
perately threatened. "You've got to stay on the 
team, simply because I'm not on it. I'm not 
blind and neither are you. One of us had to 
go to make room for Marian Seaton. It would 
have been Jane, I'm sure, if she hadn't played 
so well. They didn't quite dare do it. So I 
had to take it. We don't know what's back of it. 
Maybe it's been done on purpose to bring about 
the very thing you want to do. I say, don't give 
in to it. Stick to the team." 

"Judy's right, girls," interposed Dorothy. 
"Don't resign. You might only be pleasing a 
number of persons by doing so." 

Further counsel on her part was cut oflF by a 
jQock of sophomores who had come up to con- 
gratulate the winners. The latter were wearing^ 
their triumph far from exultantly. Jane was 
scowling in her most ferocious fashion. Adri- 
enne's piquant features were set and unsmiling, 
Christine and Barbara appeared constrained and 



RIGHT GUARD 17a 

ill at eajse. Judith alone had conjured up a brave 
little smile with which to mask the hurt of her 
defeat 

''It's a shame you didn't make the team^. 
Judy I" sympathized one tactless sophomore. 

"Judy did make the team, by rights," Dorothy 
defended, unflinching purpose in the calm asser- 
tion* "I want it distinctly imderstood that she 
was my choice." 

"We thought, too, that she should have been 
chosen," exclaimed Alice Kirby, another sopho- 
more, with a vigorous nod of her head. "It 
seems funny " 

"It's anything but funny," Dorothy cut in 
sharply. "Pardon me, Alice, I didn't intend to 
be rude to you. I'm dreadfully disgusted over 
this a£Fair. I'll leave you to guess the reason." 

"It's not hard to guess," retorted Alice sig- 
nificantly. "With Judy a better player than 
Miss Seaton and yet not even chosen to sub, some- 
thing's twisted at Wellington. I rather think it 
will stay twisted, too, as long as a certain person 
has two out of three judges on her side." 

Alice had been one of Judith's most ardent 
supporters at the recent class election. 

"Well, I'm glad you have such a clear idea of 
things," grimly returned Dorothy. "Kindly 



174 J^NE ALLEN 

pass it on. I'm not saying that vindictively, 
either. I want everybody I know to understand 
that I consider this an unfair decision and 
that I absolutely refuse to coimtenance it. Miss 
Brown recently asked me to act as referee in 
the games this year. I accepted. Now I'm 
going straight to my room to write her my 
resignation." 

"You mustn't do that, Dorothy," Judith again 
protested. "It's dear in you. I surely appre- 
ciate it. Really, I don't mind so very " 

Judith stopped, the wistfulness in her blue 
eyes contradicting her unfinished denial. 

"But if you resign, Dorothy, there'll be no 
one to stand by us later," reminded Christine 
gloomily. 

"I've thought of that, too, but it doesn't sway 
me. This is a matter of principle. I could not 
be Judith's friend if I accepted this injustice 
to her." 

"It is indeed wise that Dorothy should do 
this," Adrienne sagely wagged her curly head. 
"First, it is but fair to you, Judy. Again we 
shall gain rather than lose for this reason. Soon 
all must know why Dorothy has thus resigned. 
She wishes it to be no secret. Foila! For the 
rest of the year these two most unfair seniors 



RIGHT GUARD i7£ 

must have a care. The eyes of many will be 
upon them. The pitcher may go once too often 
to the well. N^esf ce pas?^^ 

She turned to her listeners for corroboration. 
Wily child that she was, she had decided to im- 
press this view on those present, knowing that 
it would be accepted and remembered. 

"We had thought, the four of us,'' she im- 
pressively continued, including her three team- 
mates and herself in a sweeping gesture, "to re- 
sign from the team. Because Judy does not de- 
sire it, we shall remain only to please her. Judy 
has the great heart and the broad mind. She 
has not the narrow soiil of some persons of whom 
I might speak, only that these names leave the 
bad taste in my mouth." 

"Hurrah for Judy! Three cheers for Adri- 
ennel" enthusiastically proposed one of the 
highly impressed sophomores. 

The hearty burst of acclamation which sud- 
denly rent the air was anything but welcome to a 
number of girls still lingering in the g3mi- 
nasium. 

SiuTounded by a coterie of her own adherents, 
which included Leila Brooks, Elsie Noble, 
Maizie Gilbert, and a number of upper class 
girls, Marian Seaton's pale eyes darted a spite- 



176 JANE ALLEN 

ful glance at. the noisy worshippers of the girls 
she detested. 

"Boisterous things I" she exclaimed disdain- 
fully. "The idea of their setting up such a howl 
about that Judy Steams when she didn't even 
make sub, let alone making the team. If th^ 
knew what I know about her, not one of those 
sophs outside of her own crowd would ever speak 
to her again." 

"What do you know about her? Don't be 
stingy, Marian." "Why not let us into the 
know?" were some of the cries that greeted 
Marian's dark insinuation. 

"I'll keep what I know to myself for the pres- 
ent. I am too charitable to make trouble for 
that girl, even if she has done her utmost to 
injure me. I'll never tell anyone unless there 
comes a time when I feel it necessary to speak.'* 

Marian assumed an air of virtuous tolerance 
that caused Maizie Gilbert to eye her with reluc- 
tant admiration. She alone knew what her room- 
mate was driving at. 

"I'm really relieved because you girls haven't 
carried on like wild Indians about my making 
the team," she continued sweetly. "I hate being 
made conspicuous." 

She was inwardly furious because her sup- 



RIGHT GUARD 177 

porters had failed to become wildly jubilant over 
her success. 

"Three cheers for Marian!'' hastily proposed 
Elsie, realizing that it was not yet too late to 
save herself from Marian's private displeasure. 

Far from being disgusted with the belated 
mead of praise, for which she had fished, Marian 
beamed patronizingly as the cheers were given. 

These sounds of requisitioned acclamation were 
wafted to the ears of Selina Brown and Laura 
Nelson, who were in the act of leaving the gymr 
nasium. 

"Well, she partly got what she wanted," re- 
marked Selina Brown grimly as they left the 
building and set off for Creston Hall where both 
lived. 

"I expect that she'll be peeved because things 
didn't go entirely her way. I made a fatal mis- 
take in asking Dorothy Martin to be one of the 
judges," pursued Selina. "I had forgotten about 
her being so thick with that Allen girl. Marian 
never mentioned it, either, until afterward. Then 
she made a big fuss, but it was too late to renege. 
Last year I let basket-ball alone. I'd had enough 
of it the first two years here at Wellington. I 
wasn't in touch with these girls that Marian's 
so down on. Roberta Hurley was managing the 



178 7ANE ALLEN, 

teams then, you know. She recommended me to 
Miss Rutledge as her successor. I wish now I*d 
refused to act as manager." 

"I'm sorry I had anything to do with it," re- 
gretted Laura Nelson. "Of course, Marian has 
been lovely to both of us. I was stupid enough 
to mistake it for real friendship imtil she came 
right out the other night and asked us to keep 
those three girls oflF the team. Then I knew she*d 
only been getting an axe ready for us to grind." 

"Oh, I saw through her from the first, but I 
thought I'd humor her. WeVe had a good many 
rides and dinners at her expense. I supposed it 
would be easy enough to keep those three oflF the 
team. When I saw them play I knew diflFer- 
ently. That Jane Allen is a wonder with the 
ball ; the httle French girl, too. If I had dropped 
either of them the sophs would have raised the 
roof. I had to save my own reputation. It 
didn't matter so much about the Steams girl. 
She and Marian were pretty evenly matched." 

"She's a better player than Marian," frankly 
disagreed Laura. "As it is, I think we are in 
for trouble. We've antagonized Dorothy Mar- 
tin. You heard what she said to us. She won't 
hesitate to say it to anyone else who claims Miss 
Stearns ought to have made the team. Dorothy's 



RIGHT GUARD 179 

always stood high at Wellington. She has lots 
of friends." 

"Oh, she'll calm down," predicted Selina. 
"She hates to be crossed. Personally, I don't 
admire her. She poses too much. She's either 
a prig or a hypocrite. A little of both, I guess. 
When Marian raged about my asking her to act 
as judge she said she knew for a fact that Dor- 
othy's father had lost all Jiis money and that 
Dorothy was hanging on to Jane Allen and this 
French girl, I never can remember her name, 
because they took her aroimd with them and 
spent lots of money on luncheons and dinners." 

"Then she's no better than we are!" exclaimed 
Laura, looking relief at this piece of news. 

"Of course she isn't," retorted Selina. "As 
nearly as I can make out it's nip and tuck be- 
tween Marian and this Jane Allen as to which of 
them will run the sophomore class. One has 
about as much principle as the other. Marian 
has been nice to us. The Allen girl has never 
bothered herself to get acquainted with us. I 
understand she's very haughty. I should have 
really enjoyed keeping her oflf the team, but I 
didn't dare do it." 

"Then you think we ought to stick to Marian?" 
Laura asked rather dubiously. 



i8o ^JANE ALLEN 

"'Yes. Why not? So long as it suits us to do 
it. We can easily handle her if she shows her 
daws. She won't, though. She knows that I 
could drop her from the team if I chose. She 
"won't dare say a word because the rest of the 
team are against her. I'll very quickly remind 
her of it if she is wrathy about to-day's affair." 

"Suppose anything — ^well — disagreeable for us 
— should come of it?" 

Despite Selina's assurances, Laura was not 
quite satisfied. 

"What do you mean?" queried Selina impa- 
tiently. 

"Suppose Miss Steams' friends should take 
it up and raise a regular riot about it? A lot of 
sophs went over to her after the try-out. You 
saw them and heard them cheering her. Dorothy 
Martin was there with the crowd. She went 
straight to them from us. I tell you, I don't like 
it, Selina. I think we were foolish to lay our- 
selves open to criticism. We're seniors, you 
know, and so are supposed to set a good example 
for the other classes." 

"Oh, stop worrying about it," roughly advised 
Selina. "Wait and see what happens. If the 
sophs start to fuss, I can soon settle them." 

"How?" demanded Laura incredulously. 



RIGHT GUARD i8i 

"By taking Marian off the team and putting 
the Steams girls on," promptly informed Selina. 
''If I lose Marian's friendship hy it, I'll gain 
Dorothy Martin's and Jane Allen's. As I'm not 
devoted to any of these girls, I'm not particular 
vrhich side I'm on, so long as it's the side that 
does the most for me." 



CHAPTER XX 

THE RISE OF THE FBESHMAN TEAM 

RETURNED to Madison Hall that aft- 
ernoon, Dorothy Martin went directly to 
her room to put into effect the spoken 
resolution she had made in the gymnasium. 

The hrief note she dashed off in a strong, pur- 
poseful hand, read: 

"'My Deab Miss Bbown: 

''Kindly appoint someone else in my place as 
referee for the coming games. I must firmly de- 
cline to act in that capacity. 

"Yoiu*s truly, 

"DOKOTHY MaETIN." 

Deciding to send it through the regular mail 

channels, she stamped and addressed it, and 

promptly consigned it to the mail box. 

182 



KIGHT GUARD 183 

When it presently came into the hands of 
Selina Brown, it cost the latter some moments 
of mieasy speculation. She had not reckoned on 
Dorothy's going thus far. 

As it happened the note came as a climax to a 
trying session she had spent with Marian Seaton 
on the previous evening. Marian had come over 
to Creston Hall after dinner with hlood in her 
eye. She was decidedly out of sorts over the 
partial failure of her scheme and did not hesitate 
to take Selina to task for it. 

Selina, as her elder and a senior, had vast ideas 
of her own regarding the proper amount of re- 
spect due her from a mere sophomore. Armed 
with a dignity too great to descend to open quar- 
rel, she soon reduced angry Marian to reason. 

"You ought to he thankful to me for putting 
you on the team," she had coldly reminded. 
"Goodness knows Laura and I have had trouhle 
enough over it already. I proved my friendship 
for you. Now he good enough to appreciate it 
and stop criticizing me. I consider it in very bad 
taste." 

After Marian had finally departed in a more 
chastened frame of mind, Selina pondered darkly 
concerning the "friendship" she had flaunted in 
Marian's face. She decided that Marian would 



1 84 JANE ALLEN 

have to show more appreciation if she expected 
any further favors. 

Dorothy's note served again to arouse in 
Selina renewed resentment toward Marian. She 
was now at odds with one of the most popular 
girls at Wellington, and what had she gained? 
A few automobile rides and dinners, bestowed 
upon her by a girl in whom gratitude was a minus 
quality. Selina was distinctively aggrieved. She 
could only hope, as she carefully reduced Dor- 
othy's note to bits and dropped them into the 
waste basket, that this was the end of the matter. 
It had all been aggravating in the extreme. 

Three days passed and nothing more hap- 
pened. She had half expected that the four 
friends of Judith who had made the team might 
send in their resignations. She wished they 
would. A new team would be far less likely to 
give trouble later on. 

But no resignations arrived. In fact, a visit 
to the gymnasium on the third afternoon revealed 
the sophomore team at practice. She wondered 
how Marian had the temerity to go calmly to 
work with four girls whom she detested, and who 
in turn mi^st heartily detest her. 

Aside from Marian, who beamed and nodded 
to her, no one else on the team appeared to note 



J 



RIGHT GUARD 185 

her presence. It was mortifying, to say the least. 
But the end was not yet. 

Though Dorothy had made no secret of her 
resignation from basket-hall activities, it took the 
news several days to reach the ears of the fresh- 
man class. 

"Too bad Dorothy's given up referee's post 
this year, isn't it?" was the casual remark that 
set the ball of reinstatement rolling. 

It was made to a member of the freshman 
team by Alice Kirby. There was a purposeful 
gleam in her eye despite the apparent careless- 
ness of the comment. It immediately provoked 
a volley of questions, which Alice answered with 
prompt alacrity. The eflPect upon the freshman 
was electrical. She left Alice post haste to gather 
up her teammates and hold a council of war. 

The very next afternoon the council waited 
upon Miss Rutledge with a most amazing story. 
They wanted to play basket-ball that year. Oh, 
very much indeed ! Still, they didn't care to play 
without Dorothy Martin as referee. Yes, Dor- 
othy had been appointed by Miss Brown, but she 
had resigned. No, it was not because she was 
too busy. Yes, they knew the reason. They 
could not blame her. Nevertheless they wanted 
her back. 



1 86 JANE ALLEN 

It did not take long after this to explain that 
Dorothy had resigned because Judith Steams 
had been unfairly treated. Everyone who had 
been at the try-out must know that Judy Steams 
had outplayed Marian Seaton. She had not been 
chosen but Marian had. Dorothy had protested 
to Miss Brown. It had done no good. So she 
had resigned. 

Miss Rutledge had listened patiently to the 
tale poinded forth by the justice-seeking quin- 
tette. When it had ended she quietly promised 
them that she would look into the matter and see 
what could be done. 

On the following morning, Dorothy, Laura 
Nelson and Selina each found a note awaiting 
them in the house bulletin board, requesting them 
to call on Miss Rutledge at four-thirty that 
afternoon. 

Dorothy was frankly puzzled over her note. 
Having a clear conscience she could think of no 
reason for the summons. Selina, however, was 
apprehensive. Immediately she jumped to the 
conclusion that Dorothy had reported her to 
Miss Rutledge. Laura was also of the same 
opinion. 

As the two Creston Hall girls walked deject- 
edly down a corridor of Wellington Hall to the 



RIGHT GUARD 187 

dean's office that afternoon, sight of Dorothy just 
ahead of them confirmed their worst fears. 

Invited hy Miss Rutledge to take seats, the 
three bowed distantly to one another. 

"I sent for you three young women/' began 
Miss Rutledge, "because of a rather peculiar 
story which has come to my ears concerning the 
recent basket-ball try-out. The freshman team 
is up in arms because you have given up referee's 
post. Miss Martin. They wish you to keep the 
position. They have requested me to take the 
matter up with you in their behalf." 

Selina and Laura both looked amazement at 
this statement. It was certainly not what they 
had expected. Dorothy too showed marked sur- 
prise. An amused little smile hovered about her 
lips. 

"It is nice in them to want me," she said 
gravely. "I appreciate their loyalty. That is all 
I can say." 

"That is hardly enough to satisfy them or me," 
replied the dean. "I must ask you to tell me why 
you resigned yoiu* post." 

"I would rather not answer that," Dorothy 
said with gentle firmness. 

"Very well. I will ask you another question. 
Did you resign because you considered that Miss 



i88 JANE ALLEN 

Steams had been unfairly treated at the try- 
outr 

Dorothy hesitated, then answered with a low, 
"Yes." 

"Please explain in what way she was unfairly 
treated," relentlessly pursued the dean. 

"Miss Steams made a better showing at the 
try-out than Miss Seaton. She was one of the 
five best players. Miss Seaton would have 
ranked eighth in my opinion. She was chosen 
instead of Miss Steams." 

"You were one of the judges, I believe?" 

"Yes. My choice was Miss Steams." 

"You were also one of the judges, Mis3 
Brown?" 

The dean had now turned to Sehna. 

"Yes." 

"And you. Miss Nelson?" 

"Yes." A guilty flush dyed Laura's cheeks. 

"Two against one in favor of Miss Seaton?" 
commented Miss Rutledge. "Let me ask you 
two young women this. Were you both satisfied 
in your own minds that Miss Seaton was the 
better player?" 

"I was," declared Selina boldly. 

"I— I " 

The scrutiny of the dean's steady eyes discon- 



RIGHT GUARD 189 

certed Laura. She could not bring herself to 
look into them and utter a deliberate untruth. 

"I — ^it was hard to judge between them/' she 
finally faltered. "They — ^they were almost 
equally matched in my opinion." 

"Still, you must have thought Miss Seaton 
a little the better player, else you would not have 
chosen her," asserted Miss Rutledge smoothly. 

"We had the right to our opinion," broke in 
Selina quickly, determined to save Laura from 
crumpling to the point of blurting forth the 
truth. 

"That is true," agreed the dean, "provided it 
was a fair opinion. Miss Martin states that it 
was not." 

"Miss Martin has no business to say that," 
retorted Selina hotly. 

"She has, if that is her opinion. She has the 
same privilege that you have," was the grave 
reminder. "According to the statement just 
made by Miss Nelson, she was not at all sure of 
Miss Seaton's playing superiority over that of 
Miss Steams. In that case, why did you not 
order the game resumed, especially to test out 
these two players? That would have been the 
best method of procedure." 

"Because it wasn't necessary. Miss Nelson 



I90 JANE ALLEN 

gave her decision at once in favor of Miss 
Seaton." 

"She seemed decidedly uncertain just now 
about it," said the dean dryly. "As it happens, 
the members of the freshman team are of the 
same opinion as Miss Martin. They claim that 
Miss Steams completely outplayed Miss Seaton. 
That it was too evident to be overlooked. I might 
investigate this affair more thoroughly, but I do 
not wish to do so. As seniors, all of you should 
be above reproach. Each knows best, however, 
what is in her heart." 

Laura wriggled uncomfortably, looking ready 
to cry. Selina put on an air of studied indif- 
ference. Dorothy presented the calm serenity of 
one whose integrity cannot be assailed. 

For a long silent moment the dean's eyes trav- 
eled from face to face. Then she said: 

"We shall settle this matter by another try-out 
to-morrow afternoon at half -past four. I shall 
attend it. When you leave here. Miss Brown, 
kindly post a notice in the bulletin board calling 
the sophomore team to practice to-morrow. 
State that it is by my order. Miss Martin, please 
notify Miss Steams that I wish her to be there, 
also, ready to play. I will appoint two seniors 
to act with me as judges. I am familiar, as you 



RIGHT GUARD 191 

know, with the game. This try-out will not aflPect 
the other members of the team. We shall drop 
one of them temporarily to give Miss Steams 
the opportmiity of playing against Miss Seaton. 
I rarely interfere in the matter of college sports, 
but in this instance I feel compelled to take 
action." 

"I suppose, if Miss Steams wins, it will mean 
the loss of my position as senior manager!" ex- 
claimed Selina. 

She was too thoroughly disgruntled to realize 
to whom she was speaking. 

**Why should it? You have assiu*ed me of 
your honesty of purpose," flashed back the dean. 

Selina's discoiu*teous manner of addressing her 
she could ignore. The import of the speech was, 
however, another matter. It contained self-con- 
demnation. Selina herself realized her mistake 
the instant Miss Rutledge replied. She turned 
red as a peony. 

"I — I — ^just thought you might wish to ap- 
point someone else," she said lamely. 

"If you had admitted to me that you treated 
Miss Steams unfairly, it would certainly become 
necessary to appoint another manager," replied 
Miss Rutledge. "You have not done so. In fact 
you have stated quite the opposite. On the con- 



i9a JANE ALLEN 

trary, I must also accept Miss Martin's word that 
she is speaking the truth as she sees it/' 

"Thank you. Miss Rutledge," was Dorothy's 
sole comment. 

"If Miss Steams wins against Miss Seaton at 
the new try-out it will be by pure luck," declared 
Selina, with a desperate attempt at retrieving her 
previous incautious remark. 

"There will, at least, be no question of unfair 
treatment involved." 

The blunt reply should have warned Selina 
that she was not bettering her case. Instead, her 
belated attempt at caution flew away on the 
wings of anger. 

"I think it's very unfair to Marian Seaton to 
hold another try-out I" she exclaimed. "She 
won her position on the team fairly enough. 
This whole affair is nothing but a plot to put 
Miss Steams on the team and drop Miss Seaton 
from it. Miss Steams has four friends on the 
sophomore team who have persuaded the fresh- 
man team to do what they themselves don't dare 
do. As Miss Martin has frankly accused both 
Miss Nelson and myself of unfairness, I will say 
plainly that I think her a party to the plot. I 
dare say Miss Steams knows all about it." 

"Miss Brown, you are not here to criticize my 



RIGHT GUARD 193 

methods," sternly rebuked the dean. "Granted 
tiiat you are entitled to your own opinion, harsh 
as it is, you must either be in a position to prove 
your accusations or else not make them. Can 
you prove them?" 

"No, I can't. Neither can Dorothy Martin 
prove hers." 

"I can obtain the signatures of at least thirty 
girls who were of the same mind as myself at the 
try-out." 

It had come to a point where Dorothy refused 
longer to remain mute. Incensed by Selina's 
bold attempt to malign her friends and herself, 
she now turned to Miss Rutledge and said: 

"I wish you to know. Miss Rutledge, that the 
four sophomores chosen, besides Miss Seaton, to 
make the team fully intended to resign from it 
because of their loyalty to Miss Steams. She 
begged them not to do so. She was very brave 
over the disappointment. I am positive that 
neither she nor her friends would be guilty of 
asking the girls of the freshman team to take up 
the matter. Certainly I would not." 

"I know you would not," quietly reassiu*ed the 
dean. "We will drop this discussion where it 
now stands. It is unbecoming, to say the least. 
I am greatly annoyed that it should have arisen 



194 JANE ALLEN 

among members of the senior class. It is ended. 
Let it be forgotten. The try-out to-morrow will 
decide the question. I would prefer you not to 
give up your position as referee. Miss Martin. 
Will you reconsider yoiu* resignation?" 

"I will, since you desire it.*' Dorothy bowed 
acquiescence. 

"Then the matter is settled," was the conclud- 
ing announcement. "I shall expect all three of 
you to be present at the try-out to-morrow after- 
noon." 

This was virtually a conmiand. Had Selina 
dared, she would have coldly declined to obey it. 
As it was she said nothing. Miss Rutledge's 
tones indicating that the interview was con- 
cluded, she rose, bade the dean a chilly "Good 
afternoon," and departed, accompanied by 
Laura. 

Dorothy also rose to go, but the dean detained 
her with a kindly: 

"Just a moment, Dorothy. I wish a private 
word with you. I know you too well to believe 
you to be at fault in this matter." 

"I am not at fault. Miss Rutledge," was the 
composed answer. "I thank you for believing 
in me." 

"There seems to be a great deal more behind 



RIGHT GUARD 195 

this affair than appears on the surface," the dean 
said significantly. 

"That is true," Dorothy affirmed. "Since the 
beginning of last year a struggle has been going 
on here at Wellington between right and wrong. 
The girl who represents right is too noble to 
complain. She will fight things out imaided, and 
she will win." 

"You refer to Judith Stearns?" interrogated 
the dean. 

"No; not Judith." Dorothy shook her head. 
"Judith has merely been used as a scapegoat. I 
would prefer not to say more. The girl who is 
in the right would not wish it. She has been 
advised to come to you, but refuses to do so. She 
is very determined on that point." 

"And you approve of her stand?" The dean 
eyed Dorothy quizzically. 

"Yes." Dorothy's affirmative came unhesitat- 
ingly. "I should feel the same imder similar cir- 
cumstances." 

"Then you would advise me not to go too 
deeply into things?" 

There was a decided twinkle in the dean's eyes 
as she said this. She had known Dorothy too 
long not to feel the utmost confidence in her. 

"I can't imagine myself as advising Miss Rut- 



196 JANE ALLEN 

ledge," she said prettily, her sober face lighting 
into a smile. 

The smile, instantly returned, indicated per- 
fect imderstanding. 

"I think you are right, Dorothy. I shall not 
interfere, except in the matter pf a new try-out, 
unless I am approached by the girl of whom you 
speak. Frankly, I have no idea of whom she 
may be. These disagreements among the stu- 
dents at Wellington seldom reach my ears. 
When they do I always endeavor to see justice 
done the wronged party.'* 

When Dorothy had presently left her, how- 
ever. Miss Rutledge sat pondering over the intri- 
cacies of girl nature. Hailing from the far West 
she was inclined to view the world from a man's 
standpoint. She was, therefore, wholly in sym- 
pathy with a girl who could sturdily fight her own 
battles without asking help of anyone. She 
could almost wish that the identity of sudi an 
one might some day be revealed to her. 



CHAPTER XXI 

BEmSTATEMENT 

OUTSIDE Wellington Hall, Laura and 
Selina stopped long enough to hold a 
hurried conversation. As a result they 
both set their faces toward Madison Hall to in- 
form Marian Seaton of what ^ras in store for 
her. 

"It's simply outrageous!'* she stormed, when 
Belina had gloomily finished relating the dire 
news. "I won't go to the gym to-morrow. Miss 
Rutledge has no right to interfere with the 
teams." 

''She seems to think she has," shrugged Selina. 
"You'll have to do one of two things. Either 
resign now from the team, oi^ go to the try-out 
to-morrow and take your chance of winning 
against Miss Steams." 

"I won't do either," flatly declared Marian. 

107 



198 . JANE ALLEN 

"'I made the team and I won't be cheated of my 
position on it." 

"Do you think you can outplay Miss Steams?" 
asked Laura anxiously. "You didn't the other 
day, you know." 

"You'd best resign," cut in Selina sharply, 
without giving Marian time to answer Laura's 
question. "If you go to the gjon to-morrow it's 
going to create a lot of gossip about Laura and 
me. Dorothy Martin hasn't made a secret of her 
opinion of the other try-out. With Miss Rut- 
ledge there to-morrow as one of the judges and 
neither Laura nor I acting with her, it's going to 
look pretty bad for us." 

"I tell you I sha'n't be there to-morrow," 
snapped Marian. 

"Then you'll get yourself into trouble with 
Miss Rutledge and lose your position anyway," 
returned Selina with equal asperity. "I've al- 
ready told you that I have received instructions 
to post a notice calling the sophomore team to 
practice by her order. If you resign now, that 
will end the whole thing. Of course the Steams 
girl will get your position on the team. Still you 
can save your own dignity and ours by pretend- 
ing in your resignation that you are deeply hurt. 
You can say, too, that you would have been very 



RIGHT GUARD 199 

willing to give up your position on the team to 
Miss Steams if you'd understood that she 
wanted it so much." 

"But I'm not willing to do any such thing," 
angrily contended Marian. "Ill take my chance 
against Judith Steams to-morrow before I'll 
tamely resign like that. Come to think of it, it 
would be much more dignified on my part to go 
to the gym. You, not I, have been accused of 
unfairness. You put me on the team, you 
know." 

"Yes, and why did I?" flung back Selina hotly. 
^*Because you asked me to do it. Now you think 
you can hang the unfairness on my shoulders and 
slip free of it yourself. Well, you can't. I know 
that Judith Steams can outplay you. If I 
thought she couldn't, I'd say go ahead. But she 
can. As you won't resign of yoUr own accord, 
I'm going to demand your resignation. If you 
don't give it to me in writing, I'll go straight 
back to Miss Rutledge and tell her the whole 
thing. I'd rather confess to her than have every- 
body down on Laura and me after to-morrow." 

"You wouldn't do that. You can't scare me," 
sneered Marian. 

"Oh, wouldn't I? Wait a little. You'll see." 

"You'd be expelled from college. Just re- 



200 JANE ALLEN 

member that. Tou'd find yourself worse off 
than if you kept still,'* triumphantly prophesied 
Marian. 

"We wouldn't be expelled. Tou probably 
would be. We'd be severely reprimanded and 
Miss Rutledge would be down on us for the rest 
of the year. But you started the whole thing. 
You're the real offender. It would go hard witih 
you." 

"I'm sorry I asked you to help me, Selina 
Brown!" Marian exclaimed bitterly. "You're a 
treacherous snake I After aU I've done for you, 
you turn against me like this." 

For the next five minutes she continued to ex- 
press her candid and very uncomplimentary 
opinion of Selina. 

When she paused to take breath, Selina's only 
retaliation was, "Come on, Laura. We'll have 
to hurry if we expect to catch Miss Rutledge in 
her office. I suppose we'd best go to her house 
and wait for her. We'U be surer of seeing her 
then." 

It had the desired effect. Marian crumpled, 
shed a few tears of pure rage, but finally wrote 
the resignation which Selina dictated. 

"It worked 1" was Selina's relieved exclama- 
tion, the moment they were out of Madison Hall. 



mCHT GUARD aoi 

"She's a great coward, for all her boldness. She 
gave in more easily than I'd expected. You can 
imagine me confessing anything like that to Miss 
Rutledge, now can't you?" 

Selina accompanied the query with a derisive 
laugh. It was echoed by Laura, though rather 
nervously. 

"It was horrid to have to bully her." Laura 
made a gesture of distaste. "I'm glad we're 
safely out of it. We'd best keep out of such 
tangles hereafter, and let the sophs alone." 

"I intend to," Selina said with grim decision* 
"I shall keep the managership of the teams, but 
I'll steer clear of trouble after this. Now let's 
hustle home. I must write Miss Rutledge a note 
and enclose Marian's resignation. I'll ask her 
to answer, stating whether it is satisfactory and 
asking what I am to do. I'll pretend that I 
found the resignation waiting for me at Creston 
HaU." 

Half an hour later, Selina had written her 
letter and dispatched it to Warburton Hall, the 
faculty house where Miss Rutledge lived, by the 
small son of Mrs. Ingram, the matron of Creston 
Hall. 

When the dean had read and re-read the two 
communications, she looked decidedly grave. 



202 7ANE ALLEN 

After a brief interval of thoughtful meditation, 
she wrote Selina the following reply: 

*T>EAB Miss Bbown: 

*Kindly write to Miss Seaton and accept her 
resignation from the sophomore team. Do not 
post the notice I requested you to post. It will 
not be necessary. Write to Miss Steams noti- 
fying her that Miss Seaton has resigned from 
the team and that I wish her to accept the posi- 
tion thus left vacant. 

"Yours truly, 

"Geeteude Rutoidge.** 

When the next morning's mail brought Judith 
the amazing news, unwillingly penned by Selina 
Brown, she was literally dumf ounded. The mail 
arriving while she was at breakfast, she garnered 
the note from the house bulletin board on her 
way upstairs from the dining-room. 

"For goodness* sake, read this!" she almost 
shouted, bursting in upon Jane, who was pre- 
paring to go to her first recitation. "I don't 
know what to make of it!" 

A slow smile dawned on Jane's lips as she 
perused the agitating note. 

"Marian never resigned by her own accord," 



RIGHT GUARD 203 

she said. ^'It looks as though her scheme had 
somehow proved a boomerang. Someone stood 
up for you, Judy, mighty loyally. Miss Rut- 
ledge's name being mentioned in the note tells me 
that. Was it Dorothy, I wonder ? No ; it wasn't. 
She promised us that she wouldn't go to Miss 
Rutledge about it." 

"It's a mystery to me," declared Judith. "I 
don't know what to do. I wonder " 

A rapping at the door sent her scurrying to 
open it. 

"Why, Dorothy!" she exclaimed. "How did 
you know I wanted to see you?" 

"I didn't know. I came because I have a spe- 
cial message for you from Miss Rutledge. She 
sent for me to come to her last night after din- 
ner. I spent the evening with her and arrived 
here too late to see you. I was dying to tell Jane 
this morning at breakfast, but couldn't, of course, 
until I'd seen you. I'm glad you're both here. 
By the way, Judy, did you receive a note from 
Selina Brown?" 

"I certainly did," emphasized Judith. "What's 
the answer to all this, Dorothy? I was never 
more astonished in all my life than when I read 
her note. What made Marian Sieaton resign 
from the team, and why does Miss Rutledge want 



204 J^NE ALLEN 

me to take her place ? I*d just about made up my 
mind to go and ask her, when you came." 

"You needn't," smiled Dorothy. "She has 
asked me to explain things to you in confidence, 
I'm going to take the liberty of including Jane. 
I'll explain why presently/' 

"I won't feel hurt if you don't, Dorothy," Jane 
said earnestly. "Perhaps you'd really rather tell 
Judy alone." 

"No. I want you to hear the whole thing,'* 
Dorothy insisted. Whereupon she recounted 
what had occurred on the previous afternoon in 
the dean's office. 

"I wanted you to know, Jane, just why I told 
Miss Rutledge that this affair was a hang-over 
from last year. I know she has no idea of whom 
I meant by the girl who was standing up for 
right. She may suspect Marian as being the 
other girl. I can't say as to that I'm glad she 
knows now that there is such a condition of 
affairs at Wellington. She will not forget it if 
anything else comes up. She will be very well 
able to put two and two together, if need be." 

"I'd never go to her of my own accord," Jane 
said with an emphatic shake of her russet head. 

"You might be sent for some day, just as I 
was yesterday," returned Dorothy. 



RIGHT GUARD 205 

"But you haven't yet explained why Marian 
resigned, Dorothy/* reminded Judith. "What 
did Miss Rutledge say about it?" 

"She said that she had received a note from 
Selina, with Marian's resignation enclosed^ 
Marian's reason for resigning was that she had 
learned you were dissatisfied over her appoint- 
ment on the team. She preferred to give you 
her position rather than have you continue to 
make trouble about it." 

Dorothy's lips curled scornfully as she said 
this. 

"Then I won't accept it!" Judith blazed inta 
sudden anger. "The idea of her writing such 
things about me I How can Miss Rutledge ask 
me to replace Marian after that? I won't do it."^ 

"Yes, Judy, you must," Jane declared quietly. 
"Marian wrote that hoping you'd hear of it and 
refuse. She knew you'd insist on learning the 
particulars before you accepted. Miss Rutledge 
has shown her faith in you by asking you to re- 
place Marian on the team." 

"Sehna Brown is behind the whole thing,"^ 
asserted Dorothy. 

"I believe it," quickly concurred Jane. "It's 
easy to see through things. She didn't want an- 
other try-out; so she made Marian resign. She 



2o6 JANE ALLEN 

must have used a pretty strong argument to do 
it. It was a case of the biter being bitten, I 
imagine." 

"Exactly/* Dorothy agreed* "Selina Brown 
and Laura Xelson ought to have more principle 
than engage in anything so dishonorable. 
They Ve managed to wriggle out of it at Marian's 
expense, but they have both lost caste by it. De- 
pend upon it, a great many girls here will have 
their own opinion of the whole affair and it won't 
be complimentary to Marian, Selina and Laura." 

"Someone may say that I am to blamie for 
Marian's resigning," advanced Judith doubt- 
fully. 

"Someone undoubtedly will," concmred Jane, 
"but it won't carry much weight. You have too 
many friends, Judy, to bother your head about 
the spiteful minority. You were unfairly dealt 
with at the try-out. That's generally known. 
Now you've come into your own through a hitch 
in Marian's plans. She couldn't get back on the 
team again under any circumstances. You're 
not standing in her way> Don't stand in your 
own." ^ 

"I guess I'd better accept,^ Judith reluctantly 
conceded. "From now on I shall go armed to 
the teeth. Marian Seaton is apt to camp on my 



RIGHT GUARD 207 

trail," she added with a giggle, "Good gracious, 
girls 1 Look at the timel We'll be late to 
chapeL" 

Absorbed in conversation, the trio had com- 
pletely forgotten how swiftly time was scudding 
along. 

"Late to chapel 1 Chapel will be over before 
ever we get there if ypu don't hiury !" exclaimed 
Jane ruefuUy. 

Accordingly the three made a hasty exit from 
the room and the Hall, hiurying chapelwards at 
a most undignified pace. 

That afternoon Judith sent her letter of ac- 
ceptance to Selina Brown. The next day she 
reported in the gymnasium for practice with her 
old teammates. It was a joyful reunion, made 
more conspicuous by the attendance of a goodly 
number of sophomores, who had got wind of the 
news and who cheered Judith lustily when she 
appeared. The freshman team, who had so loy- 
ally fought for her, also made it a point to drop 
in on the practice and oflFer their congratulations. 

The jubilant majority was undoubtedly heart 
and soul for Judith. Whatever the "spiteful 
minority," as Jane had put it, thought of her, 
she quite forgot in the delist of being at last 
really and truly on the official team. 



2o8 JANE ALLEN 

"We certainly are a fine combination!'* exulted 
Christine at the end of an hour's spirited work 
with the ball. "The freshmen will have to look 
out. And to think they were the ones to give 
Judy back to us!" 

Christine, Adrienne and Barbara were among 
the few who knew that the freshman team had 
protested to Miss Rutledge. The five freshmen 
themselves had kept the matter fairly qmet. 
They had been sent for and privately informed 
by Miss Rutledge that Miss Seaton had resigned 
from the sophomore team of her own accord and 
that Miss Steams was entitled to the vacancy. 

They had also been gravely charged to let that 
end all discussion of the subject. Their point 
gained, they obeyed orders, except for a certain 
amount of curious speculation among themselves 
as to how it had come about. 

In the end they agreed that Marian must have 
heard of their visit to Miss Rutledge and resigned 
out of pm-e mortification. 

Jane, Judith and Dorothy kept the greater 
knowledge of the affair to themselves. Not even 
Adrienne knew the true facts. Selina Brown 
and Lam-a Nelson also f oimd wisdom in silence. 
They were not hunting further trouble. They 
had had enough. 



RIGHT GUARD 209 

Selina had been allowed to keep her manager- 
ship of the teams, and was shrewd enough to 
appreciate that another slip would be decidedly 
disastrous to her. Thereafter she became such a 
stickler for fair play as to prove decidedly amus- 
ing to at least three girls. 

Marian Seaton foimd refuge in the "hurt feel- 
ings" policy as dictated to her by Selina. To 
her particular satellites she posed as a martyr and 
affected a lofty disdain for "certain girls who 
have no principle." 

Inwardly she was seething with resentment 
against Judith. She confided to Maizie, her 
stand-by, that she didn't know which of the two 
she hated most, Judith Steams or Jane Allen. 
She laid her latest defeat, however, at Judith's 
door. She believed that Judith had been the 
secret means of inciting the freshman team to 
protest and she was determined to be even. Fur- 
thermore, she confided to Maizie that it would 
be only a matter of time until Judith Steams 
must lose every friend she had. 



CHAPTER XXII 

MAKING OTHER PEOPLE HAPPY 

FOLLOWING on the heels of Judith's 
advent into the team come an unheralded 
and wonderful surprise for Dorothy 
Martin. 

One crisp Saturday afternoon in early No- 
vember, Jane Allen ran up the steps of Madison 
Hall, her face radiant. Attired in riding clothes, 
she had just come from the stable, where she had 
left Firefly after a long canter across country. 

Into the house and up the stairs she dashed 
at top speed, bound for Dorothy Martin's 
room. 

"Come," called a cheerful voice, in answer to 
her energetic rapping. 

"Oh, Dorothy!" Jane fairly bounced into the 
room. "Get on your hat and coat and come 
along. I've something to show you." 

210 



RIGHT GUARD 211 

"What is it? Where is it?" gaily queried Dor- 
othy. "To mend or not to mend, that is also the 
question. Shall I go on mending my pet hlouse 
that's falling to pieces altogether too fast to 
suit me, or drop it and go gallivanting off with 
you?" 

"There's no question ahout it. You must 
come. If you don't, you'll be sorry all the rest 
of the year," predicted Jane. "Now sit and 
mend your old pet blouse if you darel" 

"I dare — ^not," Dorothy laughed. Rising she 
laid aside the silk blouse she was darning and 
went to the wardrobe for her wraps. "I'm a very 
poor senior these days," she added. "I can't buy 
a new blouse every day in the week. I have to 
make my old ones last a long time." 

"You always look sweet, Dorothy," praised 
Jane, "so you don't need to care whether yoiu^ 
blouses ar^ old or new. They're never anjrthing 
but dainty and trim." 

"Thank you for those glorious words of 
praise," was Dorothy's light retort. 

"You're welcome, but do hinry," urged Jane. 

"Where do we go from here?" quizzed Dorothy 
as they started down the drive. 

"I sha'n't tell you. Wait and see. Miss Impa- 
tience. This is a very mysterious journey." 



^12 JANE ALLEN 

In this bantering strain the two continued m 
to the western gate of the campus, passed throi^fl 
and started down the highway. 

"I know where we're going 1'* finally ex- 
claimed Dorothy. "We're going to the stable to 
see Firefly I Funny I didn't guess it before, with 
you in riding clothes. You're going to show me 
some new trick you've taught Firefly. There! 
Did I guess right?" 

"Yes, and no. That's all I'll tell you. Come 
on. One minute more and you'll see the great 
sight." 

Jane caught Dorothy's hand and rushed her 
toward the stable. Still keeping firm hold on her 
friend, she led her straight to the roomy box- 
stall which accommodated Firefly. 

"Oh, Jane I" Dorothy cried out in sudden rap- 
tiu-e. "What a beautiful horse. Why, he looks 
almost enough like Firefly to be his brother. 
Where did you get him? What in the world are 
you going to do with two horses?" 

"He's not mine," Jane replied. "He is " 

She stopped, her gray eyes dancing. "He be- 
longs to a dear friend of mine. Her name is 
Dorothy Martin." 

Dorothy stared, as though wondering if Jane 
had suddenly taken leave of her senses. 




"I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT BEAUTY IS FOR ME. IT'S TOO WON- 
DERFUL TO BE TRUE." 
Jane Allen: Right Guard. Page 213 



RIGHT GUARD 213 

"Wake up, Dorothy 1" Jane laid an aflpee- 
tionate hand on Dorothy's shoulder. "He's 
yours. Dad sent him to you. He's come all the 
way from Capitan to see you. Aren't you going 
to say *How de do' to him?" 

"Jane— I " 

Dorothy turned and hid her head against 
Jane's shoulder. 

"This is a nice way to welcome poor Mid- 
night," laughed Jane, as her arm went round 
Dorothy. Her own voice was not quite steady. 

"I — I — it's too much," quavered Dorothy, 
raising her head. "I can't believe that beauty is 
for me. It's too wonderful to be true. I must 
be dreaming." 

"But it %8 true. If you don't believe me, read 
this." 

Jane drew a square, white envelope from the 
I)ocket of her riding coat and oflpered it to Dor- 
othy. 

"It's for you, from Dad," she explained. 
"I've been keeping it until Midnight came. This 
is the outcome of a plot. A real plot between 
Dad and me." 

Dorothy took the letter, her eyes still misty. 

"We'll read it together, Jane," she said. 

Arms entwined about each other's waists, the 



214 J^NE ALLEN 

two girls read Henry Allen's letter to his daugh- 
ter's friend. 

"Deab Miss Dobothy/' it began. "'Jane has 
written me that Firefly complains a great deal 
about being lonely. He misses Midnight, an old 
chum of his. So I decided that Midnight might 
come East, provided he had someone to look 
after his welfare. Jane has told me so much 
about you, and that you resemble one who, 
though gone from us, grows ever dearer with 
years. 

^'Because of this, and because of your many 
kindnesses to my girl, I hope you will accept 
Midnight for your own special pet. He is very 
gentle and, in my opinion, quite as fine a little 
horse as Firefly. You cannot, of course, expect 
Jane to say that. I send him to you with my very 
best wishes and trust that you and Jane will have 
many long rides together. 

"My sister and I look forward to meeting you 
next summer. Jane tells me that she will surely 
bring you home with her when college closes 
next June. We shall be delighted to welcome 
you to El Capitan. My sister joins me in send- 
ing you our kindest regards. 

" Yours sincerely, 
"Heney Aijjssn/* 



RIGHT GUARD 2x5 

"It's just like good old Dad!" Jane cried out 
enthusiastically. "You'll love Midnight, Dor- 
othy. Come and get acquainted with him. IVe 
a whole pocketful of sugar for him and Firefly." 

In a daze of happiness Dorothy followed Jane 
into the roomy stall and was soon making 
friendly overtures to Midnight, who responded 
most amiably. 

There was still one more feature of the pro- 
gram, however, which Jane hardly knew how to 
bring forward. 

"Dorothy," she began rather hesitatingly. "I 
hardly know how to say it, but — ^well — ^this stall 
is large enough for both Midnight and Firefly. 
They were chimis at home and will get along 
beautifully together. Won't you let me look 
after them both? You know what I mean?" 

"I'm glad you came out frankly with that, 
Jane." Dorothy's color had heightened. "No, 
I couldn't let you do that. I shouldn't feel right 
about it. I've been thinking hard ever since I 
read yom- father's letter. I believe it's right for 
me to accept Midnight, because you both want 
me to have him and have gone to so much trou- 
ble to bring him here. I've thought of a way 
out of the diificulty. Only yesterday a freshman 
came to me and asked me to tutor her in trigo- 



2i6 JANE ALLEN 

nometry. She's been conditioned already and 
needs help. I told her I'd let her know. I 
wasn't sure whether I wanted to do it. I've 
never tutored and I could get along without the 
extra money. But now, it will come in just beau- 
tifully. I can earn enough to pay for Mid- 
night's keep. You understand how I feel about 
it." 

"Yes. I know I'd feel the same," nodded 
Jane. "That's why I hated to say anjrthing. I 
want you to do whatever you think best. Any- 
way, Firefly and Midnight can be in the same 
stall and that will help some. You must let me 
do that much." 

"It will help a great deal. I'm not sure that 
I ought to let you do even that," demurred 
Dorothy. 

"Of coiu-se you ought," Jane said stiu-dily. 
"You must mind Dad, you know. He depends 
on you to look after Midnight's welfare. This is 
the largest, nicest stall in the stable. Now you 
must see your saddle. It's Mexican and almost 
like mine. I put it in the locker with mine. 
They're too valuable to be left lying about 
loose." 

Lingering for some little time while Dorothy 
made further acquaintance with her new posses* 



RIGHT GUARD 2^ 

sion, the two girls strolled back to the Hall 
through the November dusk. 

Dorothy was exuberantly joyful over the 
wonderful thing that had happened to her, and 
correspondingly grateful to those responsible for 
it. Jane was also brimming with quiet happi- 
ness. She wished every other day of her sopho- 
more year could be as delightful as this one. 
What splendid rides she and Dorothy would have 
together I 

Jane left Dorothy at the door of the latter's 
room and went on to her own in a beatific state 
of mind. It was certainly far more blessed to 
give than to receive. 

"Well, how did the gift party come oflp?" was 
Judith's question, as Jane closed the door be- 
hind her. Judith was the only one who had been 
let into the secret. 

"Oh, splendidly I" Jane exclaimed. "She fell 
in love with Midnight the minute she saw him. 
I wish you rode, Judy. I'd have Dad send you 
a horse, too." 

"Of course you would, generous old thing," 
was the aflfectionate reply. "But I'm not to be 
trusted with a noble steed. Neither would I 
trust said steed. I can admire Firefly, but at a 
safe distance. I'd rather stick to the lowly taxi 



2i8 JANE ALLEN 



or my two feet to cany me over the gromid. By 
the way, did you look at the bulletin board on 
your way upstairs?" 

"No; I didn't stop. I saw a couple of the 
girls reading a notice. What's happened?" 

"Our dear Marian has met with a loss." Ju- 
dith's grin belied her mournful accents. "Not 
her position on the team. Oh, my, no ! She's not 
advertising that. She's lost a valuable diamond 
ring, and has offered twenty-five dollars reward 
to the finder. The very ideal Just as if a Wel- 
lington girl would accept a reward if she hap- 
pened to find the ring. I call that an insult." 

"It's bad taste, to say the least." Jane 
looked slightly scomfuL "Does the notice state 
where she believes she lost the ring?" 

"Yes; it says, 'Somewhere between Madison 
Hall and the library, or in Madison Hall.' Be- 
tween you and me, I wonder if she really did lose 
a ring? It would be just like her to start this 
new excitement about herself on purpose to get 
sympathy. She must be awfully peeved yet over 
basket-ball* I feel almost like a villain at prac- 
tice. Stillj it certainly wasn't my fault." 

"I'm thankful there's no one here at the Hall 
she could lay suspicion upon," frowned Jane. 
"Norma's beyopd reach of injustice now. I'd 



RIGHT GUARD 219 

rather hope it was a real loss than a camouflage." 

"Well, she might say that I had stolen it. 
Wouldn't that he a glorious revenge?" Judith 
jokingly inquired. 

"Don't be so ridiculous, Judy Steams." 
Jane's frown changed to a smile at this far- 
fetched supposition on Judith's part. 

"Oh, she'll probably find it again one of these 
days, after everyone's forgotten about it and 
gone on to some other great piece of news," 
Judith imf eelingly asserted. "You see how sym- 
pathetic I am." 

"I see. I also see the clock. It's time I 
changed these riding togs for a dress. I'll barely 
have time before the dinner gong sounds." 

Jane rose from the chair she had briefly occu- 
pied while listening to Judith, and began hm-- 
riedly to remove her riding habit. 

Quickly rearranging her thick, curling hair, 
she dived into the closet that held her own and 
Judith's dresses. Selecting a fur-trimmed frock 
of dark green broadcloth, she hastily got into it. 

As she hooked it a little smile played about 
her hps. The news of Marian's loss already for- 
gotten, Jane was again thinking of the pleasant 
little scene enacted in the boarding stable, where 
Firefly and Midnight now stood side by side. 



220 JANE ALLEN 

"You must go down to the stable with us to- 
morrow and look Midnight over, Judy/' she 
suddenly remarked, then went on with an en- 
thusiastic description of Dorothy's new treasure. 

While she thus dwelt at length upon Mid- 
night's good points, in a room not far distant 
two girls were conducting a most confidential 
session. 

"How long do you think we ought to wait be- 
fore — ^well, you know?" Marian Seaton was 
asking. 

"Oh, about three weeks, I shotdd say," lazily 
retiUTied Maizie Gilbert. "We'll have to go 
slowly. It will take three or fom- months to do 
the thing properly. If we rushed it, it wouldn't 
be half as eflfective as. to take our time. What 
about Elsie?" 

"We'll tell her about the dress business, but 
no more than that. She mustn't know a word 
about the rest. She has a frightful temper, you 
know. If she happened to get good and mad 
at me, she'd tell everything she knew to the very 
first person she ran across. She'll be properly 
shocked when she hears about the dress. We'll 
tell it to her as a great secret," planned Marian. 
"I won't say an3i;hing outright about the ring. 



RIGHT GUARD 221 

I'll leave it to her to draw her own conclusions. 
She's rabid about Judy Steams. It seems she 
has heard that Judy nicknamed her the ^ignoble 
Noble.' " 

"That's a funny one!" 

Maizie appeared to derive signal enjoyment 
from this revelation. 

"I fail to see anjrthing fimny about it.'* 
Marian stiflfened perceptibly. "Please remem- 
ber, Maiz, that Elsie is my cousin." 

"Oh, I haven't forgotten it. That's a funny 
nickname, just the same." 

Maizie calmly declined to be thus easily sup- 
pressed. 

"It suits me to know that Elsie heard about 
it," Marian said, after an instant's vexed silence. 

She knew better than to continue to oppose 
Maizie. For one of her sluggish temperament, 
Maizie could turn decidedly disagreeable when 
she chose. 

"Yes, it comes in very nicely just now," 
drawled Maizie. "Elsie needs a spur to keep her 
going. Keep her in a rage and she's a fine little 
mischief-maker. Let her calm down and she's 
likely to crtraiple. She really has some idea of 
principle, only she doesn't know it. I wonder if 
she'll ever fijid it out." 



222 JANE ALLEN 

"Do you mean to insinuate that I haven't?" 
demanded Marian crossly. 

"No; I say it plainly. Neither you nor I have 
any principle," declared Maizie with her slow 
smile. "We might as well be honest about it. 
We never are about anything else, you know. 
It doesn't worry me. It's rather interesting, I 
think. Keeping things stirred up relieves the 
dull m(motony. There's always the chance that 
we may win. We have never won yet, you know. 
We're still here, though, and that's a consolation. 
This latest idea of yours ought to amount to 
something in the long run." 

"Really, Maiz, you are the most cold-blooded 
girl I ever met I" Marian cried out in exaspera- 
tion. "Sometimes I feel as if I didn't imderstand 
you at all." 

"I don't pretend to understand myself," re- 
turned Maizie tranquilly. "It would be too 
much trouble to try. Besides, self-analysis 
might 1)e fatal to my comfort. I might dig up a 
conscience, and that would be a bore. I'd rather 
take it easy and smile and be a villain still. 
Changes are so disagreeable. You'd find that 
out, if one came over me. You'd be minus a 
valuable ally." 

"Do you mean that as a threat?" 



mOHT GUARD 223 

Marian laughed. There was, however, a note 
of anxiety in her question. She had no desire to 
lose so valuable an ally as Maizie. 

"A threat? No. Don't be scared. I'm still 
wandering along under the Seaton banner. I 
suppose I'm rather fond of you, Marian. Don't 
know why, I'm siu-e. You're thoroughly selfish, 
and we quarrel continually. That's the real rea- 
son for it, I suspect. You keep things going. 
That's your chief charm. Then, too, you've been 
fair enough with me. Whatever you may do to 
others isn't my concern. • I don't intend, that it 
shall be. If I were to start in the other direction 
I couldn't stop halfway. I'd keep on going. 
Then where would you be? As I said before, 
'Changes are disagreeable.' So I'm going to stay 
on your side and, take my word for it, it's a 
mighty good thing for you," 



CHAPTER XXIII 

A NEW FRIEND 

IN spite of the peculiarly sinister talk be- 
tween Marian Seaton and Maizie Gilbert, 
nothing unusual occurred diu*ing the next 
few weeks to disturb the peace of either Judith 
or Jane. 

Thanksgiving came and went with the usual 
round of college gaieties. Foiu* days being too 
short a holiday to permit the majority of the 
Wellington girls going home, they remained at 
college and did much celebrating. 

On Thanksgiving Day the first in the series 
of three basket-ball games was played between 
the sophomores and the freshmen. The sopho- 
mores won, though the freshmen gave them a 
hard tussle, the score standing 22 — 18 in favor 
of the sophs when the hotly contested game 
ended. Both teams made a fine appearance on 



RIGHT GUARD 225 

the floor. Neither team had adhered to class 
colors that year in choosing their basket-ball suits. 
The freshmen wore suits of navy blue, decorated 
with an old rose "F** on the front of the blouse. 
A wide rolling sailor collar of the same color 
further added to the effect. The sophomores 
had elected to be patriotic, and wore khaki-col- 
ored suits, unrelieved by a contrasting color. 
It was a decided innovation of its kind and they 
liked it. 

Afterward the sophomore team privately 
agreed that the girls of the freshman team were 
real thoroughbreds. They accepted their defeat 
in the most good-humored fashion and heartily 
congratulated their opponents on their playing. 

As Right Guard, Jane proved herself worthy 
of the position. She played with a dash and 
skill that was noticeable even above the good 
work of the other players. Her mind was too 
fully centered on the contest to reaUze this until 
at the end of the game she was mobbed by a 
crowd of enthusiastic sophs. They marched her 
in triumph twice around the gymnasium to the 
cheering, ringing accompaniment of "Who's 
Jane Allen? Right, right, right Guard!" 

Jane never forgot that stirring cry of "Right 
Guard 1" It conveyed to her a higher meaning 



226 JANE ALLEN 

than mere basket-ball glorification. It fell upon 
her ears as an admonition to do well. To do 
right, to be right, and to stay rigl]%. It was al- 
most as if she had been elected by her own soul 
to be a guardian of right. 

That night the losing freshman team did some- 
thing unprecedented in the history of Welling- 
ton. They entertained their conquerors at din- 
ner at Rutherford Inn. More, Jane was amazed 
to find herself the guest of honor and had to re- 
spond to the highly complimentary toast, "Right 
Guard Jane,'* given by Florence Durham^ the 
freshman captain. 

So Jane's Thanksgiving holiday came and 
went in a blaze of well-earned glory. Happy in 
this unexpected appreciation of herself, which 
appeared to be steadily growing, she came to 
feel that things had at last begun to take an 
upward tiun. 

With Christmas rapidly approaching and 
everything still serene, pleasant immunity from 
the disagreeable was still hers* Neither had 
Judith met with anything disturbing to her hap- 
piness, beyond an occasional spiteful glance from 
Marian Seaton when she chanced to encounter 
the latter in the Hall or on the campus. 

"I guess Marian has given up the ghost," Ju- 



RIGHT GUARD 227 

dith suddenly remarked to Jane one evening be- 
fore dinner, as the two sat in their room going 
over their long Christmas lists. "I believe I 
ought to send her a consolation present. A 
Vooden tiger on wheels would be nice. I saw 
some lovely ones in the Ten-Cent Store at Ches- 
terford. All painted with dashing yellow and 
black stripes and fixed so that they waggle their 
heads when you toudi *em." 

"Don't mention her," grimaced Jane. ^TTou'U 
break the spell. WeVe had absolute peace and 
rest since her last uprising. I wonder if she ever 
found her ring?" 

"I don't beUeve so. A girl told me not long 
ago that she saw Marian take the notice from the 
bulletin board and tear it up. She overheard 
her say that fehe might just as well have not 
posted it, for all the good it had done. That she. 
had hoped that the reward she offered might 
count. But evidently it hadn't. Now what did 
she mean by that?" 

"Notiiing or everything," shrugged Jane, and 
again turned her attention to her list of names. 

"More Ukely everything," Judith declared un- 
charitably. "She probably meant something 
dark and insinuating. I guess that the only per- 
son who could earn the reward would be herself. 



228 JANE ALLEN 



I can just imagine her returning the ring to her- 
self and paying herself twenty-five dollars 
reward." 

Judith chuckled as she mentally visioned 
Marian Seaton graciously bestowing a reward 
upon herself. 

Jane smiled a little, also, but made no com- 
ment. Engaged in the delightful occupation of 
planning pleasure for her friends, she did not 
wish the subject of Marian Seaton to intrude 
upon it. 

"I don't have to worry about my present-buy- 
ing this year," she presently remarked. "Aunt 
Mary will buy everything for me that I need. 
All I have to do is to send her a list of the pres- 
ents I'm going to give and she will shop for me.'* 

"It was splendid in yoiu* father and your aunt 
to come to New York for the holidays," ap- 
proved Judith warmly. 

"They both knew how disappointed I was last 
year because I couldn't go home for Christmas," 
Jane answered. "They are doing this for my 
special benefit. I siu-ely appreciate it, for Dad 
loathes the East, and Aunt Mary hates railway 
traveling. I'm awfully sorry that neither you 
nor Dorothy can be with us. We'd love to have 
you, but I know that you want to be with your 



RIGHT GUARD 229 

father, and Dorothy, of course, wants to be at 
home with her folks." 

"Yes, Father wants me at home this year. I'm 
glad we are to have the full three weeks' vaca- 
tion. I don't imagine that twelve days business 
last year worked very well. The girls made such 
a fuss about it, and a lot of them came back 
late. I'm going to ask my aunt to give a house 
party for me at Easter. Then I'll invite all our 
crowd and we'll have a great old celebration. 
Christmas is a bad time for a college girl house 
party. Everyone's anxious to be at home with 
her own people. Easter's different." 

"Yes, that's true," nodded Jane. "What are 
you going to give our foiu* freshmen, Judy?" 

"Long white gloves; a pair apiece," was the 
prompt reply. "They have none, I know, or 
they would have worn them at the freshman 
frolic." 

"That will be nice. I know what I'd Uke to 
give them. I believe they'd be pleased, too." 

"What?" Judith eyed Jane interestedly. 

"Fiu-s. Not the most expensive, of course. I 
wouldn't care to overwhelm them. I thought of 
black fox muif s and scarfs for Kathie and Freda, 
and gray squirrel for Ida and Marie. None of 
them have fiu-s. I have four or five sets and a 



230 JANE ALLEN 

fur coat, too. I feel selfish to have so much, whea 
they have nothing/' 

"That's perfectly sweet in you, Jane," lauded 
Judith. "You're always a generous old dear» 
though." 

"Why shouldn't I be generous?" demanded 
Jane. "Dad wants me to be. He never cares 
how much money I spend, but he likes to have me 
think about others. He's a great old giver him- 
self. He says that the only way to take the curse 
off of having a lot of money is to use it in help^ 
ing to make the other fellow happy. I wish I 
could take time to tell you all tiie kind things 
he's done with his money. It seems as though 
the more he gives the more he has." 

"If everyone who had money were like him 
we'd have an ideal world, I guess," declared Ju- 
dith. "I have quite a lot of money coming to 
me when I'm twenty-one. I was named for my 
grandmother and she left it to me. When I get 
it I shall try to do as much good with it as I can. 
I don't want to be selfish. I'm afraid I think 
too much about my own pleasure, though." 

Jane smiled at this rueful confession. Judith 
was generous to a fault. She was always far 
happier in giving than in receiving. 

"You're not selfish, Judy," she assiu*ed. "We 



RIGHT GUARD 231 

all think a good deal more about our own fun 
than we should, perhaps* We spend lots of 
money on spreads and dinners and treats. IVe 
been thinking seriously about it lately. After 
Christmas, I'm going to invite our crowd to our 
room some evening and propose something that I 
believe we might agree to do. You needn't ask 
me what it is, for I sha*n't tell you." 

"AU right, don%" grinned Judith. "I've 
enough on my mind now to keep me busy until 
after the holidays. I was never curious, even in 
my infancy. If I was, I don't recall it. In fact, 
I don't remember much about that particular 
period of my young life. I was bom absent- 
minded, you know, and have never outgrown it." 

"You've done pretty well this year," smiled 
Jane. "You haven't committed a single crime, 
so far, along that line." • 

"Shh!" Judith warned. "Praise is fatal. I'll 
surely do something now to offset it. I'm on the 
verge. Only yesterday noon I laid my little 
leather purse on my wash stand. After classes 
I met Mary Ashton on, the campus and invited 
her to go to the drugstore with me to have hot 
chocolate. When I went to pay for it, I took my 
little silver soap dish out of my coat pocket. I'd 
grabbed it up and stuffed it in there instead of 



232 JANE ALLEN 

my purse. You can imagine how silly I felt! 
Mary had to pay for our chocolate. So I know 
that I*m on the verge. This Christmas rush has 
gone to my head. I'm going to make you censor 
every last package I send. I'm not to be 
trusted/* Judith ended with a deep sigh. 

"I'll keep my eye on you," promised Jane, 
much amused at the affair of the soap dish. 

"Thank you; thank youl" Judith responded 
with exaggerated gratitude. "Now I must leave 
you. I promised Mrs. Weatherbee to go to her 
room before dinner. She just jSnished a perfectly 
darling white silk sweater she's been knitting for 
her niece. It has a pale blue collar and it's a 
dream. She wants to try it on me. I am about 
the same build as her niece." 

With this Judith departed, leaving Jane in 
rapt contemplation of her Christmas list. She 
was well satisfied with the selection of gifts she 
piu-posed to lay on the altar of friendship. She 
hoped she had forgotten no one. She decided to 
write at once to her Aunt Mary, who was already 
in New York, and enclose a list of the articles 
she wished her aimt to purchase for her. 

Judith presently returned to dwell animatedly 
on the beauties of the silk sweater. 

"It's the sweetest thing ever," she glowed. 



RIGHT GUARD 233 

"It's awfully becoming to me. It's all finished 
and after dinner I'm going to take it out to mail 
for Mrs. Weatherbee, I told her I didn't know 
whether I could be trusted with it or not. I 
might run away with it." 

"Are you going to take it to the postoffice?" 
asked Jane. "If you are I have a letter I wish 
you'd mail there for me. I'd go with you but 
I have a frightfully long translation in French 
prose for to-morrow. I can't spare the time." 

"Oh, I'm only going as far as the package box 
at the east end of the campus. Mrs. Weather- 
bee's going to weigh and stamp the package here 
and send it special delivery instead of register- 
ing it." 

"Then you can drop my letter in the post box. 
That is, if I finish it before the dinner gong 
rings." 

Glancing up at the clock, which showed a quar- 
ter to six, Jane hastily resumed her writing. The 
gong sounding before the letter was completed, 
Judith obligingly voluunteered to "hang around" 
after dinner until it was ready for mailing. • 

"Now don't put this letter in your coat pocket, 
Judy," cautioned Jane, when half an hour after 
dinner she delivered it into Judith's keeping. 
"If you do, you'll forget it, mail the package and 



234 J^NE ALLEN 

come inarching back to fhe Hall with my letter 
still in your pocket. I*m anxious for it to be 
collected to-night; then Aunt Mary will get it 
some time to-morrow/' 

"I'll mail it. Don't you worry," Judith as- 
sured. "I'll carry it in my hand every step of 
the way. It's raining. Did you know it? I 
hope it will turn to snow by to-morrow. I like 
the weather good and cold around Christmas 
time." 

"Oh, well, it's over a week until Christmas. 
We'll probably have plenty of snow by then," 
Jane commented. "Better take your mnbrella.** 

"Never!" refused Judith. "One package and 
a letter are about as much as I can safely carry 
at a time. I might jam the umbrella into the 
package box and come home with Mrs. Weather- 
bee's package held over my head. Let well 
enough alone, Jane. I'll wear my raincoat and 
run for it." 

Slipping on her raincoat and pulling a fur 
cap 6ver her head, Judith took the letter and 
started off, stopping in the matron's rooia for the 
package she had offered to mail. 

"Whew I" was her salutation on reappearing 
in her room perhaps twenty minutes later. 
"Maybe it isn't raining, though, and it's as dark 



RIGHT GUARD 235 

J 

as can be, I put your letter and the package 

under my coat and made a mad dash for the mail 
box. Gk)t rid of them both in a hiury, and made 
a still madder dash back home. Another time, 
I'll donsult the weather before I offer my noble 
services as runner. Any way, yoiu* letter is on its 
way. So is the sweater, and the girl who gets it is 
lucky.'' 

"I'm ever so much obliged to you, Judy. I 
hope Aunt Mary sends my stuflF right away, so 
that I'll have it on hand to give before I go to 
New York. It won't take more than two days 
to buy it. Allowing three for it to arrive, I'll 
have it in good season, I guess." 

The next few days were fraught with consider- 
able anxiety for Jane, until the arrival of numer- 
out huge express packages, set her doubts at rest. 
Then a busy season of wrapping and beribbon- 
ing gifts ensued. The blessed fever of giving 
was abroad at Wellington and the cheerful bus- 
tle and stir of Christmas pervaded every nook 
and comer of college. 

Two evenings before Christmas, Jane and 
Judith invited their particular chums to their 
room for a good-bye spread. The party spent a 
jubilant evening, feasting and exchanging gifts 
and good wishes. On the next day, Jane and 



236 JANE ALLEN 

Judith bade each other an aflFectionate farewell 
and departed for their respective destinations. 

Adrienne and Norma accompanied Jane to 
New York, there to spend the holidays with the 
Duprees. Adrienne's distinguished mother was 
illling a long engagement at a theater there, and 
the Duprees had opened their home in New York 
for the time being. Norma expected to fill a two- 
weeks' engagement in a stock company, obtained 
for her by Mr. Dupree, and was to be the guest 
of the kindly Frenchman and his little family. 

The three girls were delighted at this state of 
affairs, as Jane looked forward to meeting the 
Duprees and Adrienne was equally eager to 
know Jane's father and aunt. In consequence, 
the trio had made countless holiday plans which 
they piu-posed to carry out. 

All in all, it was a red-letter three weeks for 
the three Wellington girls. Jane foimd New 
York a vastly different city when peopled by 
those dear to her. During her brief shopping 
trip there the previous winter she had not liked 
New York. Now she discovered that it was a 
most wonderful place in which to spend a holi- 
day. 

In spite of the constant round of theaters, din- 
ners, luncheons and sight-seeing into which she 



RIGHT GUARD 237 

was whirled, she took time to look sharply about 
her for those to whom Christmas meant only a 
name. Accompanied by Mrs. Dupree, she and 
Adrienne made several visits to poverty-stricken 
sections of the great city, leaving substantial good 
cheer behind them. 

She also discovered a special protege in a meek- 
faced young girl who occupied the position of 
public stenographer in the hotel where the Al- 
iens were staying. Dressed in deep mournings 
the girl at once enlisted Jane's sympathy. She 
promptly made her acquaintance and the two 
girls became instantly friendly. It needed but 
tiie information that Eleanor Lane had recently 
lost her mother to strengthen the bond of ac- 
quaintance to actual friendship. 

Democratic Henry Allen and his sister quite 
approved of Jane's interest in the lonely little 
stranger, and Eleanor was invited frequently to 
dine or limch with them. 

"It seems odd," she said to Jane one afternoon 
near the end of the blissful holiday as Jane lin- 
gered beside her desk, "but your name haa 
sounded familiar to me from the first. I've heard 
it before but I can't think when or where. I only 
know it's familiar. It bothers me not to be able 
to place it." 



238 JANE ALLEN 

"It's awfully aggravating to have a dim recol- 
lection of something and not be able to make it 
come clear," Jane agreed. "My name isn't an 
uncommon one. There may be dozens of Jane 
Aliens in the world, for all I know." 

"Yes, there may be. I hear and see so many 
names, I wonder that I can ever keep any of 
them straight in my mind," smiled Eleanor. 
"Perhaps it will come to me all of a sudden some 
day. If it does, I'll write you about it." 

"Yes, do. You know we are going to corre- 
spond. When I come to New York again I shall 
siu-ely look you up," declared Jane. "And you 
must come and spend a week-end with me at 
Wellington." 

Girl-fashion, the two had advanced to the "vis- 
iting" stage of friendship. Sad little Eleanor 
regarded Jane as a bright and wonderful star 
that had sudd^y dawned upon her gray hori- 
zon. 

Jane liked Eleanor for her sweet amiability 
and pleasant, unassimiing manner. She also ad- 
mired her intensely, because Eleanor was actu- 
ally engaged in successfully earning her own liv- 
ing. This, in itself, seemed quite marvelous to 
Jime, who had never earned a penny in her life. 
"Girls are really wonderful, after all. Dad," 



^ RIGHT GUARD 232 

she confided to her father, as the two sat side by 
side on a big leather davenport in the sitting room 
of the Aliens' private suite, indulging in a confi- 
dential talk. 

It was the last night of Jane's stay in New 
[York. The next day would find her saying fond 
farewells to her father and aunt. They in- 
tended to remain in New York for a few days 
after Jane's departure for Wellington College, 
then make a brief tour of the larger eastern cities 
before returning to the West. 

"It seems queer to me now that I used to dis-^ 
like them so much," Jane continued, shaking a 
deprecating head at her former adverse opinion 
of girls in general. "I wouldn't know what to 
do now without my girl friends. I seem to be 
making new ones all the time, too. There's Elea- 
nor, for instance. I've grown ever so fond of 
her. I think it would be fine to have her make me 
a visit next simmier. She never goes anywhere 
in particular. She just works hard all the time. 
Dorothy thinks she can't come to Capitan until 
August, so I could have Eleanor there in July." 

"Invite whom you please, Janie, The more 
the merrier. All I want is to see my girl happy," 
was the affectionate response. 

"And I am happy. Dad," Jane ardently as- 



240 JANE ALLEN 

gured. "You and Aunt Mary have given me the 
finest Christmas I could possibly have. I'll go 
back to Wellington feeling as if I owned the 
earth. After such a glorious vacation as this has 
been, I'll have every reason in the world to be a 
good pioneer. I'll re-tackle my bit of college 
land for all I'm worth, and improve it as much as 
I can through the rest of my sophomore year. It 
looks a lot better already than it did last year." 

Jane spoke with the glowing enthusiasm of 
perfect happiness. The joy of Christmas had 
temporarily driven from her mind even the vex- 
atious memory of Marian Seaton and her petty 
spite. 

Quite the contrary, Christmas had not reduced 
Marian to any such beatific state. She accepted 
it as a mere matter of course, and spent it in 
Buffalo, as the guest of Maizie Gilbert. Pri- 
vately, she wished it over and done with. For 
once, she was impatient to return to Wellington, 
there to further a certain enterprise of her own 
from which she expected to gain decided results. 



CHAPTER XXIV 



THE LISTENER 



RETURNED to Wellington, Jane and 
Judith both agreed that in spite of their 
holiday fun, each had missed the other 
dreadfully. They had plenty to talk about and 
mi^ch to show each other in the way of beautiful 
gifts which had fallen to their lot. 

Judith was jubilant over the acquisition of a 
knitted white silk sweater, which she assured Jane 
was an exact counterpart of the one Mrs. Weath- 
erbee had knitted for her niece. 

"My Aunt Jennie made it for me," she ex- 
plained, as she proudly exhibited it to Jane. "I 
bought the silk and she did the work. I told her 
about the one Mrs. Weatherbee made for her 
niece and dandy Aunt Jennie offered to knit one 
for me like it. Wasn't that nice in her? I'm go- 
ing to show it to the girls and then put it away 

241 



242 JANE ALLEN 

unta Spring. It will be sweet with a white wash 
satin skirt. I*m going to have some made just to 
wear with it. Let's give a spread, Jane, to the 
crowd. Then we can show them our Christmas 
presents. It will give you a chance, too, to get 
that great secret idea of yours oflp your mind. 
You see I haven't forgotten about it." 

Jane smilingly agreed that it would be a good 
opportunity and the spread was accordingly 
planned for the next evening. Christine, Bar- 
bara, Dorothy, Norma, Alicia, Adrienne, lithel 
and Mary Ashton were the chosen few to be in- 
vited. 

It was not imtil the little feast provided by 
Judith and Jane had been eaten and the ten girls 
still sat about the makeshift banqueting board, 
that Jane, urged by Judith to "Speak up, Janie," 
began rather diffidently to speak of her cherished 
new idea. 

"I don't know whether you'll agree with me 
or not," she said. "If you don't, please say so 
frankly, because if we should decide to do what 
I'm going to propose we'll all have to be imited 
in thinking it a good idea. 

"It's like this," she continued. "We all spend 
a good deal of money on luncheons and dinners 
and spreads. We feel, of coiu*se, that we have a 



RIGHT GUARD 243 

perfect right to do as we please with our allow- 
ance checks. So we have. Still, when one stops 
to think about quite a number of girls at Welling- 
ton who are straining every nerve to put them- 
selves through college, it seems a little bit selfish 
to spend so much on one's own pleasures. 

"Suppose we agreed to give only two spreads 
a month. There are ten of us here. We could 
each put a dollar a month into a common fund. 
That would give us ten dollars to spend on the 
two spreads, five dollars on each. During the 
month we'd see how much of our allowances we 
could save. Whatever we had left at the end of 
the month would go into the comi^n fund. No 
one of us would be obliged to give any particu- 
lar sum. Whatever we gave would be a good-will 
offering. One of us would be treasurer. We'd 
buy a toy-bank and the treasurer would take 
charge of it. Whenever one of us wanted to give 
something we'd go to her and drop the money in 
the bank. Not even she would know what we 
gave. The first of every new month she'd take 
the money out, count it and put it in the Chester- 
ford Trust company for us." 

"But suppose we save quite a lot, what would 
we do with it?" asked Barbara Tennant. "We 



244 J^NE ALLEN 

wouldn't need it for ourselves. We*d have 
to " 

"That's what I'm coming to," interposed Jane. 
**We'd start a fund to help the poorer Welling- 
ton students along. There is no College Aid So- 
ciety here. I don't know why none has ever been 
organized. I suppose there haven't been so very 
many poor girls at Wellington. Until three 
years ago there were no scholarships ojBPered. 
There are only two now. There will be three 
soon. My father has promised me that." 

Jane's lips ctu^ed in a tender little smile, as 
she quietly made this announcement. There was 
no hint of boastful pride in her tones; nothing 
save becoming modesty and deep sincerity. 

"This money we collected would be open to 
any student to draw upon who made requisition 
for it," she explained. 

"But would the girls who need it ask for it?" 
questioned Norma. "You see I know how it feels 
to be very, very poor. If I hadn't found such a 
splendid way to earn my tuition fees and board, 
I'm afraid I could never bring myself to ask for 
help in that way. It would seem hke begging." 

"Oh, we'd loan the money; not give it," 
promptly assm*ed Jane. "We'd loan it without 
interest, to be repaid at convenience. You know 



RIGHT GUARD 245 

the ^Beatrice Horton' books. Well, in those 
stories the girls at Exley College started such a 
fund. They gave entertainments and shows to 
help it along. Then they received money contri- 
butions from interested persons, too. 

"I don't know whether we'd ever do as they did. 
I like the idea of the self-denial gifts from just 
the crowd of us. We could let the money pile up 
this year and if we had enough by next October 
we could start our Student's Aid Fund." 

"We could keep up the good work during oiur 
vacations, too," enthusiastically suggested Mary 
Asfiton. "A little self-denial then wouldn't hurt 
us, I guess. I think it would be fun for each of 
us to pledge ourselves to earn at least ten dollars 
this summer to put into the fund. Norma and 
Adrienne are the only ones of us here who ever 
earned a dollar. Dispute that if you can." 

"I dispute it," grinned Judith. "My father 
once gave me a silver dollar for keeping quiet a 
whole hour. I was only five at the time I earned 
that fabulous sum." 

"I've earned lots of dollars for churches and 
hospitals at bazaars," declared Christine. "I 
suppose most of us have. But that's not like 
earning money for ourselves." 

"Well, everybody here is going to earn ten dol- 



246 JANE ALLEN 

lars this coming summer/* stated Judith posi- 
tively. "It would be still more fun if we eadi 
agreed to write a poem telling how we earned our 
ten dollars. We'd have a grand re-union as soon 
as we were all back in college and each of us 
would read her own poetic gem right out loud, so 
that we could all appreciate it." 

Judith's proposal was greeted with laughter 
and accepted on the spot. The girls were no less 
enthusiastic over Jane's worthy plan and each 
expressed herself as ready and willing to do her 
bit toward furthering its success. Before the tai- 
thirty bell drove the revelers from the scene of 
revelry, Adrienne had been appointed to act as 
treasurer. Jane had been unanimously chosen, 
but declined, suggesting Adrienne in her steacL 

Thus from one girl's generous thought was 
presently to spring an organization that would 
grow, thrive and endure long after Jwie Allen 
had been graduated from Wellington College to 
a wider fidd in life. 

That evening's jollification was the last for the 
participants imtil fateful mid-year, with its bin*- 
den of examinations should come and go. The 
nearer it approached the more devoted became 
the Wellingtonites to study. Even basket-baU 
practice fell oflf considerably. The second game 



RIGHT GUARD 247 

between the freshmen and sophomore teams was 
set for the third Saturday in February. This 
meant ample time for practice after the dreaded 
examinations were out of the way. 

On the whole January seemed fated to pass out 
in uneventful placidity so far as Jane and Judith 
were concerned. Elsie Noble continued to 
glower her silent disapproval of her tablemates 
three times a day, but that was all. Since the dis- 
astrous failure of the scheme to leave Jane, 
Judith and Adrienne in the lurch at the fresh- 
man frolic, she had made no further attempts at 
unworthy retaliation for her supposed griev- 
ances. 

Marian Seaton also appeared to be too fully 
occupied with her own affairs to undertake the 
launching of a new offensive against the girls she 
so greatly disliked. In fact, she behaved as 
though she had forgotten their very existence. 
For this they were duly grateful. 

Only one incident occurred during the month 
which brought Marian's name up for discussion 
between Judith and Jane. 

Judith arrived in her room late one afternoon 
with the news that Maizie Gilbert had lost a val- 
uable sapphire and diamond pin. Notice of the 
loss had appeared on the main bulletin board at 



248 JANE ALLEN 

Wellington Hall. It was worded almost pre- 
cisely as had been the notice previously posted by 
Marian regarding the loss of her diamond ring. 

Judith again confided to Jane her sturdy dis- 
belief concerning Maizie's loss. As in the case of 
Marian, she attributed it as a silly determination 
to attract undue attention. Jane frowned reflec- 
tively at Judith's supposition, but refused to com- 
mit herself. 

"I don't want to talk or even think about either 
Marian or Maizie," she said shortly. "IVe been 
living in perfect peace since Christmas and I hate 
to break the spell. I'm trying to keep my mind 
on study just now. Are you aware, Judy 
Steams, that exams begin to-morrow?" 

"I am. I am prepared — ^in a measure. 
Aheml" Judith snickered, adding: "A very 
small measure." 

"Are you going to study to-night?" Jane de- 
manded. "If you're not, then away with you. 
I'm going to be fearfully, terribly, horribly busy. 
Don't interrupt me. That means you. Alicia is 
coming in after dinner to-night. We are going 
to conduct a review." 

"All right, conduct it," graciously sanctioned 
Judith. "I'm not going to study to-night. I 
never do the last evening before exams. I just 



RIGHT GUARD 249 

try to keep what I already know in my head and 
let it go at that. Guess I'll inflict my charming 
self upon Adrienne and Ethel. They're not go- 
ing to study, either." 

"Do so; do so," approved Jane with smiling 
alacrity. "I'm sure they'll love to have you." 

"Certainly they will. I am always welcome 
everywhere — except here, on the dread eve of the 
stupendous ordeal which we shall presently be 
called upon to endure." 

Judith struck an attitude and continued to de- 
claim dramatically. 

"Who am I that I should desire for a moment 
to remain where I am not desired. I will flee to 
the welcome haunt of my true friends. We'll 
make merry and make fudge at the same time. 
Apd I sha'n't bring you a single speck of squdgy, 
fudgy fudge," she ended in practical tones. 

"I can live without it," informed Jane drily. 
**Be as merry as you please, but be quiet about it. 
Hemember, a lot of girls will be trying to study." 

"Oh, we won't get ourselves disliked," airily 
assured Judith. "We'll be as quiet as can be. 
We know how to behave during such times of 
stress." 

Jane merely smiled. Judith and Adrienne to- 
gether meant much hilarity. 



2SO J^NE ALLEN 

Dinner over, Alicia appeared to hold student 
vigil with Jane. Judith as promptly betook her- 
self to Adrienne's room for an evening's relaxa- 
tion. There she found Norma, who had also 
elected to eschew study for fudge. 

It may be said to the quartette's credit that, 
though hilarity reigned during the fudge makings 
it was of a subdued order. When the delicious 
concoction of chocolate and walnut meats was at 
last ready for sampling, the four girls sat down 
to eat and talk to their hearts' content. 
*-jphe conversation drifting to the all-important 
subject of dress, Adrienne exclaimed in sudd^i 
recollection: 

"Ah, Judy, but I must show you the sweet 
frock which I have this day received from ma 
mbre. It is, of a truth, the dream. But wait oae 
moment ! You shall thus see for yourself." 

Springing up from her chair, the little girl 
darted to a curtained doorway, the entrance to 
a roomy closet, containing her own and Ethel's 
gowns. 

It was at least five minutes when she reap- 
peared, minus the new gown, an angry light in 
her big, black eyes. 

"What's the matter. Imp?" questioned Ethel 
concernedly. 



RIGHT GUARD 251^ 

For answer, Adrienne laid a warning finger 
to her lips with a mysterious wag of her curly 
head toward the curtained doorway. 

Her finger still on her lips, she picked up a 
pencil from the writing table and scribbled in- 
dustriously for a moment or two on a pad of 
paper. Silently she handed the pad to Judith, 
who read it, opened her eyes very wide and passed 
the pad to Ethel. Ethel, in tiUTi, handed it to 
Norma. 

Suddenly Adrienne broke the silence, speaking 
in purposely loud tones. 

"I have the great secret to tell you, ^Is. It 
is of a certainty most amazing. Wait until I re- 
turn. I shall be absent from the rocnn but a mo- 
ment. Then you shall hear much that is inter- 
esting." 

Flashing to the door, she paused, frantically 
beckoning her friends to follow her. Next in- 
stant the four had made a noiseless exit into the 
hall and were grouped before the door of the next 
room. 

Very cautiously, Adrienne's small fingers 
sought the door knob and turned it. Slowly, 
soundlessly, she opened the door and stepped cat- 
footed into the room. A little line of three, emu- 



252 JANE ALLEN 

lating her stealthy movement, tip-toed after her 
into a room empty of occupants. -, 

Straight to a curtained doorway Adrienne 
flitted, followed by her faithful shadows. Sweep- 
ing the chintz curtain aside with a lightning 
movement of her hand, she paused. 

Looking over her shoulder, three girls saw a 
motionless figure lying flat on the closet floor. In 
that fraction of a second the figure suddenly ac- 
quired motion and speech. A scramble, an ap- 
palled "Oh!" and a very angry and thoroughly 
frightened girl was on her feet, confronting Adri- 
enne. Her companions had now fallen back a 
little from the doorway. The listener now made 
a futile attempt at composure. 

"What — ^why " she gasped. 

"Come out of this closet, dishonorable one,** 
commanded Adrienne sternly. "Ah, but it is I 
who had the luck to discover you in the act of lis- 
tening. Had you not too hastily shut the regis- 
ter when you heard me enter the closet on the 
other side, I should never have guessed. Come 
out instantly." 

The imperious repetition of the conunand 
served its purpose. Adrienne backed out of the 
closet into the room, followed by Elsie Noble. 
The latter's small black eyes refused to meet those 



RIGHT GUARD 253 

of her accuser. The hlazing red of her cheeks 
betrayed her utter humiliation. 

For a brief instant no one spoke. Then Elsie 
recovered speech. 

"Get out — of — ^my — ^room, you — spies 1" she 
stammered in a furious, rage-choked voice. 

"Ah, but it is you who are the great spy!'* 
scornfully exclaimed Adrienne. "There is no 
longer the mystery. So you must have listened 
often to Ethel and myself as we privately talked. 
Have you then no shame to be thus so small — so 
contemptible?" 

"No, I haven't. I '' 

Elsie's attempt to brazen things out ended al- 
most as soon as it began. Her guilty, shifting 
gaase had come to rest on Normals grave, srweet 
face. It wore an expression of wondering pity. 
Elsie turned and bolted straight for her couch 
bed. She threw herself downward upon it, beat- 
ing the pillows with her clenched fists, in a fury 
of tempestuous chagrin. 

"I think we'd best go, girls.*' It was Norma 
who spoke. "Alicia will soon be in. I don't be- 
lieve we'd care to have even her know about this. 
Perhaps it would be just as well for us to forget 
that it's happened." 

This charitable view of the matter brou^t 



254 J^NE ALLEN 

Elsie's head from the pillow with a jerk. She 
sat up and stared hard at Norma, as if miable to 
credit the latter's plea for clemency in her be- 
half. 

"I am satisfied to have thus solved a mystery. 
Now I wish to forget it." Adrienne made a 
sweeping gesture, as though to blot out the dis- 
agreeable incident with a wave of her hand. 

"It certainly wouldn't be a pleasant memory/' 
dryly agreed Judith. "Anyhow, we know now 
something we've wanted to know for a long time. 
That's about all that one feels like saying, except 
that one hopes it won't happen again." 

"I guess it won't. Let's go, girls," was all that 
Ethel said. 

Without another word the quartette turned to 
the door, leaving Elsie to her own dark medita- 
tions. She could hardly believe that she had thus 
easily escaped. It appeared that these girls 
whom she had been so sure she despised, had no 
mind for retaliation. They were simply dis- 
gusted with her. For the first time, a dim reali- 
zation of her own unworthiness forced itself 
upon Elsie. 

It was not strong enough to impel her to run 
after those who had just disappeared and apol- 
ogize for hex fault. Nevertheless, Adrienne's ac- 



RIGHT GUARD 255 

cusing question, "Have you then no shame to be 
thus so small; so contemptible?" rang in her ears. 
It dawned painfully upon her that she was 
ashamed of herself. More, that she was done 
with eavesdropping for good and all. 

Early in the year she had stimibled upon the 
discovery that the register in the dress closet 
could be efficiently used as a listening post. Its 
position, low in the wall between the two closets, 
made it possible for her to hear plainly the con- 
versation of those in the next room when both 
sides of the register stood open. This state of 
matters had existed when first she made the dis- 
covery. More, the side opening into the dress 
closet belonging to Adrienne and Ethel had re- 
mained open. 

This proved conclusively to Elsie that she was 
alone in her discovery. Fearful lest Alicia should 
note the soimd of voices proceeding from the next 
room, she had been careful to keep the register 
closed whenever Alicia was present in their room. 
At times when the latter was absent, Elsie had 
noiselessly opened it and taken up her position in 
the closet as an eavesdropper. Now she began 
miserably to wish that she had never done it. 

Meanwhile, Adrienne's first move on re-en- 
tering her room was to dash into the adjoining 



256 JANE ALLEN 

- ■ ■ I. ■ I I I I p I I I. ■ II I 

closet and close the treacherous register with an 
energetic hand. To block further listening, she 
promptly stowed a suitcase on end against it. 

**VoUat I have now remedied the trouble/* 
she announced, as she emerged from the closet. 
**We shall not need that register to give the heat 
to us. I have closed it and placed against it fhe 
suitcase. Strange we never before noticed.'* 

"Better late than never,** conmiented Judith. 
"Funny the way our little mystery was solved, 
wasn't it?** 

"I should never have known, had she not made 
the noise in closing the register on her side," ex- 
plained Adrienne. "I had but bent over to lift 
the box containing my new gown when I noticed 
the register, heard the sound and, of a sudden, 
grew suspicious. I recalled that it could not be 
Alicia. So I was most determined to know if my 
suspicion was the idle one. It was not. You saw 
for yourselves. It was all most disagreeable. I 
had the feeling of shame myself to thus discover 
this girl listening.'* 

"So had I," echoed EtheL 

"It was rather horrid,** declared Judith. 
"Maybe it will teach her a much-needed lesson. 
The ignoble Noble is a splendid name for her. 
I'm proud of myself for having th<ilight of it.** 



RIGHT GUARD 257 

"I think she was really ashamed of herself," 
Norma said quietly. "I couldn't help feeling a 
little bit sorry for her. She pretended to be very 
defiant, when all the time she looked humiliated 
and miserable. I believe she was truly sorry, but 
couldn't bring herself to say so." 

"She will too soon forget," shrugged Adrienne. 
"A few minutes with her cousin, that most de- 
testable Seaton one, and her regrets will vanish. 
Once you said, Judy, that we should solve our lit- 
tle mystery when we least thought. So you are 
indeed the prophet. We can expect no gratitude 
from this girl, because we have thus overlooked 
her fault. Still, I have the feeling that she will 
trouble us no more. VoUat It is sufficient." 



CHAPTER XXV 

THE ACCUSATION 

ADRIENNE'S prediction that a few mo- 
ments with Marian Seaton would effect- 
ually banish Elsie Noble's remorse, 
provided she felt remorse, proved not altogether 
correct. The beginning on next day of the mid- 
year examinations served as a partial escape 
valve for Elsie's feeling of deep humiliation. 

By the end of the week she was divided be- 
tween remorse and resentment. The latter over- 
swaying her, she fell back on Marian for sym- 
pathy. Marian's sympathy was not specially sat- 
isfying. She actually laughed over Elsie's ag- 
grieved narration of the affair of the dress closet, 
and coolly informed her cousin that she should 
have locked her door before attempting any such 
maneuver. 

The only grain of consolation which she be- 
258 



RIGHT GUARD 259 

stowed was, "You needn't feel so bad about what 
those sillies think of you. They'll have something 
more serious to think about before long. It's high 
time Maiz and I took a hand in things/' 

"What are you going to do?" Elsie sulkily de- 
manded. 

"You'll know when the time comes," was the 
brusque reply. 

A reply that sent Elsie back to her room, sul- 
lenly wondering what Marian was "up to" now. 
Strangely enough, Marian's vague threat awoke 
within her a curious sense of imeasiness. She was 
not so keen for retaliation now. She darkly sur- 
mised that Marian intended somehow to make 
trouble for Judith Steams and Norma about the 
last year's affair of the stolen gown. Once she 
had been ready to believe Marian's assertion that 
Judith had been guilty of theft. She was not 
nearly so ready now to believe it. 

As for Normal Elsie could still see Norma's 
sweet face, with its gentle blue eyes pityingly 
bent on her. Marian might say all she pleased. 
Norma Bennett was fine and honest to the core. 
She had always secretly admired Norma for her 
wonderful talent. Now she admired Norma 
for herself. If Marian undertook to injure 



26o JANE ALLEN 

Norma Elsie set her thin lips in a fashicm 

denoting decision. 

Mid-year came and went, however, with noth- 
ing to disturb the outward serenity of Msidison 
Hall. A brief season of jubilation followed the 
trial of examinations. The new college term be- 
gan with the usual flurry accompanying the re- 
arranging of recitati(m programs and getting set- 
tled in classes. Basket-ball ardor was revived 
and practice resumed by the freshman and sopho- 
more teams, pending the second game to be 
played on the third Saturday in February. 

On the Monday evening before the game, 
Marian Seaton and Maizie Gilbert held a private 
session with Mrs. Weatherbee. It lasted for half 
an hour and when the two girls emerged from the 
matron's oflBce, they left behind them a most 
shocked and perplexed woman. The story which 
they had related to her would have seemed pre- 
posterous, save that it touched upon a private 
matter of her own that had of late vaguely an- 
noyed her. 

For some time after the two had left her office, 
she wrestled with the difficulty which confronted 
her. Nor had she decided upon a course of action 
when she retired that night. For two days she 
continued in doubt, before she was able to make 



RIGHT GUARD ^ 

up her mind regarding the handling of the 
troublesome problem. 

After dinner on Wednesday evening she sent 
the maid upstairs with certain instructions and 
promptly retired to her room. 

"Mrs. Weatherbee wants to see us in her 
room?'* marveled Judith, addressing Molly, the 
maid who had delivered the message. "Are you 
sure she said her room?'* 

"Yes, Miss Judith. That's what she said," re- 
turned Molly positively. "She said please come 
right away." 

"That means us." Judith turned to Jane as 
Molly vanished. "Now why do you suppose she 
wants to see us in her room ? She must have 
something very private to say or she'd talk with us 
in her oflSce." 

"I don't like it at all I" Jane exclaimed with 
knitted brows. "Something's gone wrong. But 
what ? Can you think of any reason for it ?" 

"No, I can't. We haven't committed any hor- 
rible crimes that I can recall," retimied Judith 
lightly. "Come on. We might as well go and 
find out the meaning of this thusness. We should 
worry. We haven't done anything to deserve a 
call-down." 

One look at Mrs. Weatherbee's grave face as 



262 JANE ALLEN 

she admitted them to her room convinced both 
that something disagreeable was impending. 

"Sit down, girls," the matron invited, in her 
usual reserved fashion. "I have sent for Miss 
Bennett. She will be here in a moment." 

This merely added to Jane's and Judith's per- 
plexity. Jane shot a bewildered glance toward 
Judith, as the two silently seated themselves. !Di- 
rectly a light rapping at the door announced Nor- 
mals arrival. She was also formally greeted and 
requested to take a seat. 

For a moment the matron surveyed the trio as 
though undetermined how to address them. 
When she finally spoke, there was a note of hesi- 
tation in her voice. 

"A very peculiar story has been told me," she 
said, "which intimately concerns you three girls, 
particularly Miss Steams. Much as I dislike the 
idea, I am obliged, as matron of Madison Hall, 
to investigate it. 

"Certain students at the Hall have made very 
serious charges against you. Miss Steams. These 
charges are partially based on something that oc- 
curred here last year, of which I had no knowl- 
edge. I " 

''Mrs. Weatherhee! I insist on knowing at 
once what these charges arel" 



RIGHT GUARD 263 

Judith was on her feet, her usually good-na- 
tured face dark with righteous indignation. 

"Sit down. Miss Steams,** commanded the 
matron not imgently. "I intend to go into this 
unpleasant matter fully with you. A valuable 
diamond ring belonging to Miss Seaton and a 
diamond and sapphire pin belonging to Miss Gil- 
bert have disappeared. Though Xost' notices 
were posted regarding these articles, their own- 
ers have come to me stating their private belief 
that you are responsible for their disappearance." 

"But surely you can't believe any such thing 
about me !" Judith cried out in distress. "Do you 
realize that those two girls actually accuse me of 
being a thief?'* 

"Wait a moment, please/' The matron raised 
a protesting hand. "Let me finish what I wished 
to say. Miss Seaton does not believe you guilty 
of intentional theft. She accused you of being a 
kleptomaniac. She also accuses Miss Allen and 
Miss Bennett of knowing it and aiding you in 
keeping your failing a secret." 

"What?" ahnost shouted Judith. 

"Oh, this is too much!" It was Jane who now 
sprang furiously up from her chair, her gray eyes 
flashing. "I won't endure it. I insist, Mrs. 



264 JANE. ALLEN 

Weafherbee, that you send for these girls and let 
us face theuL*' 

"Yes, send for theml I won't leave this rocMn 
until Marian Seaton takes back every single thing 
she's said about me/' was Judith's wrathful ulti- 
matum. 

"I was about to suggest when yqu and Miss 
Allen interrupted me that I had thought it ad- 
visable to bring you girls together. Still, I 
deemed it only fair to let you understand the sit- 
uation beforehand," stated the matron rather 
stiffly. "I have already sent Miss Seaton and 
Miss Gilbert word to come here at eight o'clock. 
It lacks only five minutes of eight. They will be 
here directly. We will not go further in this mat- 
ter until they come. You will oblige me by re- 
suming your chairs." 

Mrs. Weatherbee's expression was that of a 
martyr. She was in for a very disagreeable ses- 
sion and she knew it. Marian's accusation 
against Judith made necessary an investigation. 
It had come to a point where Judith's honesty 
must be either conclusively proved or disproved 
beyond all shadow of doubt. If Judith, as Ma- 
rian boldly declared, were really a kleptomaniac, 
she was a menace to Madison Hall. 

Ordinarily Mrs. Weatherbee would have been 



RIGHT GUARD 265 

slow to believe such a thing. The fact, however, 
that the silk sweater which she had intrusted to 
Judith to mail had never readhed its destination, 
had implanted distrust in the matron's mind. To 
have recently learned that Judith had been ex- 
hibiting to her girl friends a sweater that an- 
swered to the description of the oile she had 
knitted for her niece was decidedly in line with 
her private suspicions. Neither had she forgot- 
ten Judith's laughing assertion to the effect that 
she was not sure she could be trusted not to run 
off with the sweater. 

Jane and Judith reluctantly reseating them- 
selves, an embarrassing silence fell. Each of the 
three girls was busy racking her brain to re- 
call the circumstance of last year upon which 
Marian Seaton had based her charge. None 
could bring back any of that nature in which Ma- 
rian had figured. 

The sound of approaching footfalls, followed 
by a light knock at the door, came as a relief to 
the waiting four. Next instant Marian and 
Maizie had stepped into the room in response to 
the matron's "Gome in." 

A bright flush sprang to Marian's cheeks as 
ishe glimpsed the trio of stem-faced girls. She 
had not anticipated being thus so quickly brought 



266 JANE ALLEN 



face to face with those she had maligned. Maizie 
appeared merely sleepily amused. 

"Kindly be seated, girls." Mrs. Weatherbee 
motioned them to an upholstered settee near the 
door. 

Casting a baleful glance at Jane, Marian com- 
plied with the terse invitation. Maizie dropped 
lazily down beside her, her slow smile in evidence. 
Matters promised to be interesting. 

"Miss Seaton,'* the matron immediately 
plunged into the business at hand, "you may re- 
peat to Miss Steams, Miss Allen and Miss Ben- 
nett what you have already told me concerning 
the affair of last year. Miss Steams has beeft in- 
formed of your ch^'ges against her. She wishes 
to defend herself." 

"I certainly do," emphasized Judith, "and I 
shall make you take it all back, too. Miss Sea ton." 

"I'm sorry I can't oblige you by taking it all 
back," sneered Marian. "I can merely repeat a 
little of a conversation that occurred between you 
and Miss Allen in which you condemned your- 
self." 

"Very well, repeat it," challenged Judith 
coolly. 

As nearly as she could remember, Marian re- 
peated the talk between Jane and Judith, to 



RIGHT GUARD 267 

^ which she had dishonorably listened on the night 

of the freshman frolic. 
]^, "You were heard to admit that you had stolen 
j^j a gown from Edith Hammond," she triumph- 
antly accused. "That Edith blamed Miss Ben- 
nett and that she confessed you had stolen it. 
Also that Miss Allen settled for it and you all 
agreed to keep it a secret. Worse yet, you and 
Miss Allen only laughed and joked about what 
you, called *your fatal failing.' Deny if you can 
that^you two had such a conversation." 

During this amazing recital the faces of at 
least three listeners had registered a variety of 
expi^essions. Marian's spiteful challenge met 
with imexpected results. Of a sudden the trio 
burst into imcontroUed laughter. 

"Qirls," rebuked Mrs. Weatherbee sharply, 
"this^ is hardly a time for laughter. "Miss 
Steams, dp you or do you not deny that you and 
Miss Allen held the conversation Miss Seaton 
accuses you of holding?" 

"Of course we did," cheerfully answered 
Judith, her mirthful features sobering. 

"Then you " 

^^We were in the dressing room on the night of 
the freshman frolic when it took place," broke in 



268 JANE ALLEN 

Jane. "May I ask where yow were. Miss Seaton, 
when you overheard it?" 

Jane's gray eyes rested scornfully upon Ma- 
rian as she flashed out her question. 

"I — I wasn't anywhere/' snapped Marian. **I 
— ^someone else overheard it.** 

"Then *someone else' should have taken pains 
to learn the truth before spreading malicious un- 
truth," tensely condemned Jane. 

Turning to the matron, she said bitterly: 

"Mrs. Weatherbee, this whole story is simply 
spite-work; nothing else. When I have ex- 
plained the true meaning of Judith's and my talk 
together in the dressing-room, you will under- 
stand everything. Judith's fatal failing is not 
kleptomania. It's merely absent-mindedness.** 

Bapidly Jane narrated the incident of the miss- 
ing white lace gown, belonging to Edith Ham- 
mond, in which herself, Judith and Norma had 
figured in the previous year. She finished with: 

"I shall ask you to write to Edith for corrob- 
oration of my story. I mu$t also insist on know- 
ing the name of the girl who overheard our talk. 
She must be told the facts. We cannot aflford to 
allow such injurious gossip to be circulated about 
any of us. Judith in particular. Further, it is 
ridiculous even to connect her with the disappear- 



RIGHT GUARD 269 

ance of Miss Seaton's ring and Miss Gilbert's 
pin. 

"Oh, is it?" cried Marian in shrill anger. "Just 
let me tell you that both the ring and the pin were 
stolen from our room. We posted a notice and 
offered a reward, hoping to get them back with- 
out raising a disturbance. It's easy enough for 
you to make up the silly tale youVe just told. I 
don't believe it. You're only trying to cover the 
real truth by pretending that Miss Steams is 
absent-minded. It's not hard to see through your 
flimsy pretext." 

"That wiU do. Miss Seaton." Mrs. Weather- 
bee now took st^m command of the situation. "I 
have no reason to believe that Miss Allen has not 
spoken the truth. This affair seems to consist 
largely of a misimderstanding, coupled with a 
good deal of spite work. You will oblige me by 
giving me the name of the girl who overheard the 
conversation." 

Marian did not at once reply. Instead, she cast 
a hasty, inquiring glance at Maizie. The latter 
answered it with a slight smile and a nod of the 
head. 

"It was my cousin. Miss Noble, who overheard 
the conversation," she reluctantly admitted. 
"She repeated it to me in confidence. She does 



270 JANE ALLEN 

not wish to be brought into this a£Fair. ]Fou will 
kindly leave her out of it entirely." 

"Your dictation is unbecoming. Miss Seaton," 
coldly reproved the matron. "I shall use my own 
judgment in this matter." 

"You are all excused," she continued, address- 
ing the ill-assorted group. "We will leave this 
matter as it stands for the present. When I have 
decided what to do, I will send for you again. 
Until then, not a word concerning it to anyone." 

Marian and Maizie rose with alacrity. They 
had no desire to prolong the interview. It had 
not panned out to suit them. Jane's concise ex- 
planation of the gown incident had practically 
turned a serious o£Fense into a laughable blunder. 
Mrs. Weatherbee undoubtedly believed Jane. 
After listening to her, she had not asked either 
Norma or Judith a single question. Instead, she 
had closed the discussion with a curtness that was 
not reassuring to the plotters. 

"Elsie will have to help us out," were Marian's 
first words when she and Maizie reached their 
room. "She'll be raving when I tell her. She'll 
have to do it, though. If she doesn't, I'll threaten 
to tell all the girls about the way that little 
French snip caught her listening at the register." 

"you might as well have owned up that it was 



RIGHT GUARD 271 

you who listened outside the dressing-room/* 
shrugged Maizie. "Then you could have passed 
the whole thing o£F as a misimderstanding. That 
would have ended it. Now we're hoth in for a 
fine lot of trouble." 

"Then why did you nod your head when I 
looked at you?" asked Marian fiercely. 

"Oh, just to keep things going," drawled 
Maizie. "I like to see those girls all fussed up 
about nothing. Besides, Weatherbee can't do 
anything very serious about our part of it. She 
can say we are mischief-makers and call us down 
and that's all. No one except ourselves knows 
the truth about the ring and the pin. That's the 
only thing that could really get us into trouble." 

"No one will ever know, either," declared Ma- 
rian. "They're both in the tray of my trunk. 
We'll take them home with us at Easter and leave 
them there. That will be safest." 

"You certainly leaped before you looked, this 
time," chuckled Maizie. "That gown business 
was funny." 

"Well, how ^as I to know? I heard Judy 
Steams say she stole it," retorted Marian testily. 
**The whole thing soimded suspicious enough to 
hang our losses on. Just the same I shall keep 
on saying now that I believe she stole our stuff. 



272 J^NE ALLEN 

Mrs. Weatlierbee needn't fhink she can make me 
keep quiet I have a perfect right to my own be- 
lief and 111 see to it that others besides myself 
share it'' 



CHAPTER XXVI 

THE STAB WITNESS 

IN Jane's and Judith's room a higMy dis- 
gusted trio of girls held session directly they 
had left Mrs. Weatherbee. Far from feel- 
ing utterly crushed and humiliated by Marian's 
accusations, Judith was filled with lofty disdain 
of Marian's far-fetched attempt to discredit her. 

"I suppose I ought to feel dreadfully cut up 
over being accused of theft," she said, "but I 
can't. The whole business seems positively un- 
real. Jane, do you believe it was the ignoble 
Noble who overheard us talking that night?" 

"No; I think it was either Maizie or Marian," 
returned Jane positively. "Didn't you see them 
exchange glances? Then Maizie nodded. They 
had agreed to put the blame on Miss Noble." 

"I wonder if she had agreed to let them," re- 
marked Norma. "I suppose she had. Other-^ 

27Z 



274 J^NE ALLEN 

wise, Marian wouldn't have dared use her name.'' 
"Z wonder what Mrs. Weatherbee will do 
about it," emphasized Jane. "There's more than 
weird unreality to it, Judy. You mustn't forget 
that Marian has accused you of taking her ring 
and Maizie's pin. She hasn't withdrawn that ac- 
cusation. She won't withdraw it. I am very 
sure of that." 

"Well, she needn't," retorted Judith. "We 
know how much it's worth. So does Mrs. Weath- 
erbee. You heard what she said about spite work. 
She's very much displeased with Marian and 
Maizie. She'll probably send for us to-morrow 
night and them, too. Then she'll lay down the 
law and order the whole thing dropped. She 
must see herself how imjust it is. Your explana- 
tion about Edith's dress was enough to show that. 
Just because the pin and ring are missing is no 
sign that I should be accused of their disappear- 
ance. Besides, they've been posted as 'Lost.' 
That clears me, doesn't it?" 

"It ought to, but it doesn't," replied Jane 
soberly. "Marian and Maizie will go on insin- 
uating hateful things about you, even if they are 
ordered to drop the matter. Then there's Miss 
Noble. She's on the outs with us and on Marian's 
side. Unless we can do something ourselves to 



J 



RIGHT GUARD 275 

make these girls drop the a£Fair, they won't drop 
it." 

"If Mrs. Weatherbee can't stop them, we cer- 
tainly can't," Judith responded rather anxiously. 
"I guess, though, that she can. She's awfully 
determined, you know. I'm going to put my 
faith in her and not worry any more about it. I 
dare say if a thorough search were made of Ma- 
rian's and Maizie's room the lost jewelry would 
be foimd," she predicted bitterly. 

"That's precisely my opinion," nodded Jane. 
"If it comes to it I shall tell Mrs. Weatherbee so. 
I'd rather wait a little, though, to see how things 
pan out. This is Wednesday. I hope it will be 
settled and oflf our minds before Saturday. We'd 
hate to go into the game with the least bit of 
shadow hanging over us." 

"Oh, I guess it will be settled before then." 
Nevertheless Judith looked a trifle solemn. De- 
spite her declaration that she did not intend to 
worry, Jane's prediction had taken imcomfort- 
able hold on her. 

"I think she ought to have settled it to-night,'* 
was Norma's blimt opinion. "It wouldn't sur- 
prise me if she really wrote to Edith Hammond. 
Mrs. Weatherbee's peculiar. I know, because 
I've worked for her. She probably believes Jane, 



276 JANE ALLEN 



yet she's in doubt about someUung. I oofuld tell 
that by the way she acted." 

*'Tou don't believe she suspects me of stealing 
those girls' jewehry, do you?" questioned Judith 
in quick alarm. 

''I hardly think that," Norma said slowly. ''I 
only know she's not quite in sympathy with you, 
Judy. If she had been she wouldn't have hesi- 
tated to settle things then and there." 

Norma's surmise was more accurate than not. 
Marian Seaton's sneering assertion that allied 
absent-mindedness on Judith's part cloaked a 
grave failing had not been entirely lost on the 
matron. She could not forget the missing 
sweater* Was it possible, she wondered, that 
there might be truth in Marian's accusation? 

Privately she resolved to do three tilings before 
passing final judgment. She would write to 
Edith for corroboration of the gown story. She 
would make further inquiry, concerning Judith's 
absent-mindedness, of Dorothy Martin. She 
would have a private talk with Elsie Noble. This 
last was solely to determine whether Marian had 
spoken the truth in regard to Elsie's having over- 
heard the fateful conversation. She was as 
doubtful of Marian as she was of poor Judith. 

Mrs. Weatherbee intended to delay making in- 



RIGHT GUARD 277 

qiiiry of either Dorothy or Elsie until she had re- 
ceived a reply to a special delivery letter which 
she had dispatched to Edith Allison, nee Edith 
Hamm(md. 

In the interim Judith had gone from hopeful- 
ness to anxiety and from anxiety to nerv6usness. 
In consequence, she failed to play on Saturday 
with her usual snap and vigor, and had not her 
team-mates put forth an extra eflFort, her unin- 
tentional lagging would have lost them the game. 
As it was they won it by only two points. 

Completely disgusted with herself, Judith 
broke down in the dressing-room and sobbed mis- 
erably. A proceeding which made Christine, 
Barbara and Adrienne wonder what in the world 
had happened to upset cheery, light-hearted 
Judy. 

Ba(^ in her room, Juditli cried harder than 
ever. 

"I'm all upset," she wailed, her head on Jane's 
comforting shoulder. "I don't see why Mrs. 
Weatherbee hasn't sent for us about that miser- 
able business. It's got on my nerves." 

"Never mind," soothed Jane. "If she doesn't 
let us know about it by Monday afternoon, 111 
go to her myself. If I knew positively that Ma- 
rian Seaton wrote the letter that nearly lost me 



278 JANE ALLEN 

my roomy I'd tell Mrs. Weatherbee. It would 
only be giving her what she deserves." 

Monday morning, however, brought Mrs. 
iWeatherbee a letter from Edith Hammond, over 
M^hich she smiied, then looked uncompromisingly 
severe. Her stem expression spelled trouble for 
someone. 

I Meanwhile, on the same morning, Jane also re- 
ceived a letter which made her catch her breath 
in sheer amazement. It was from Eleanor Lane 
and stated: 

"Deab Jane: 

"IVe remembered at last. Now I know 
why your name seemed so familiar. Last 
fall a Miss Seaton was staying at the hotel 
with her mother. She dictated a letter to me, 
the carbon copy of which I am enclosing. 
She told me that she was having the letter 
typed for a joke and asked me to sign it 
"Jane Allen.* I knew that wasn't her name, 
because I had heard a bell-boy page her sev- 
eral times and knew who she was. She said 
that you were her cousin Mid that she was 
only sending the letter for fun, that it 
wouldn't do you the least bit of harm. 

"I didn't like her at all. She was very 



J 



RIGHT GUARD 279 

hateful and supercilious* I thought at the 
time that the letter was a queer kind of joke» 
hut I'd never been to college so I wasn't in 
a position to criticize it. Anyway, it wasn't 
my business, so I typed it and signed it as she 
requested. That's where I saw yoiu* name. 
I thought I would send you the letter and 
ask you if it was really a joke. I foimd it the 
other day in going over my iiles and it wor- 
ried me. I realized that I had done a very 
f ooUsh thing in signing it. I should have 
refused to do so. 

"This is the second letter I've written since 
I last heard from you, so hurry up and write 
me soon. With much love, 

"Ever your friend, 

"Eleanor." 

The shadow of a smile flickered about Jane's 
lips as she imf olded the sheet of paper enclosed 
in Eleanor's letter and glanced it over. As by 
miracle the means of retaliation had been placed 
in her hands. 

She decided that she would wait only to see 
what the day might bring forth. If by dinner 
time that evening Mrs. Weatherbee had made no 
sign, she would go to the matron after dinner 



28o JANE ALLEN 

with a recital that went back to the very begin- 
ning of her freshman year. She would tell every- 
thing. Nothing should be omitted that would 
serve to show Marian Seaton to Mrs. Weather- 
bee in her true colors. 

If, on the other hand, Mrs. Weatherbee sent 
for Judith, Norma and herself that evening and 
exonerated Judith in the presence of her enemies, 
Jane determined that she would not, even in that 
event, withhold the story of Marian's long-con- 
tinued persecution of herself and her friends. 
Undoubtedly Marian and Maizie would be asked 
to leave Madison Hall; perhaps college as well. 
Mrs. Weatherbee would be sufficiently shocked 
and incensed to carry the affair higher. Jane 
hoped that she would. She had reached a point 
where she had become merciless. 

While Jane was darkly considering her course 
of action, Mrs. Weatherbee was finding Monday 
a most amazingly exciting day. The morning 
mail brought her Edith's letter. Directly after- 
ward she hailed Dorothy Martin as the latter left 
the dining-room and mardied Dorothy to her of- 
fice for a private talk. When it ended,' Dorothy 
had missed her first recitation. Mrs. Weather- 
bee, however, had learned a number of things^ 
hitherto unguessed by her. 



RIGHT GUARD 281 

Shortly after luncheon a meek-eyed, plainly 
dressed little woman was ushered into her oflSce. 
In her mittened hands the stranger carried a 
package. Sight of it caused the matron to stare. 
Her wonder grew as the woman handed it to her* 

"If you please, ma'am," blurted forth the 
stranger, red with embarrassment, "I hope you 
won't feel hard towards me. I know I oughtta 
come to you before. My husband found this here 
package in a rubbish can. He works for the 
town, collectin* rubbish. He f oimd it jus* before 
Christmas and brung it home t' me. 

"You c'n see for yourself how the name o* the 
party it was to go to had been all nm together, 
so's you can't read it. The package got wet, I 
guess. But your name's plain enough up in the 
comer. I knowed I ought ta brung it here first 
thing, but I — I — opened it. I knowed I hadn't 
oughtta. Then I seen this pretty silk sack and I 
wanted it terrible. 

"I says to myself as how I was goin' to keep 
it. It wasn't my fault if you throwed it into the 
rubbish can by mistake. My husband he said I 
hadda right to it, 'cause findin' was keepin'. So 
I kep' it, but it made me feel bad. I was brung 
up honest and I knowed it was the same as 
sfcealin'. 



282 JANE ALLEN 

"But I wanted it terrible, jus* the same. I 
never see an3iliing han'somer, an' it looked swell 
on me. I put it on jus' once for a minute. It 
didn't give me no pleasure, though. I felt jus' 
sneaky an' mean. After that I put it away. 
Once in a while I took a look at it. Then my litlie 
girl got a bad cold. She was awful sick. I for- 
got all about the sack. She pretty near died. I 
sat up with her nights for quite a while. When 
she got better I thought about the sack again, and 
knowed that Grod had come down hard on me for 
bein' a thief. So I jus' got ready an' brung it 
back. It ain't hurt a mite, an' I hope you won't 
make me no trouble, 'cfiuse I've had enough.'* 

Mrs. Weatherbee's feelings can be better imag- 
ined than described. The return of the missing 
sweater at the critical moment was sufficiently 
astounding, not to mention the pathetic little con- 
fession that accompanied its return. She felt 
nothing save intense sympathy for her humble 
caller. 

When the latter took her leave a few moments 
later, she went away wiping her eyes. Far from 
making her any "trouble," Mrs. Weatherbee had 
treated her wiljh the utmost gentleness. The 
stately, white-haired woman with the "proud 



RIGHT GUARD 283 

face'' had not only thanked her for returning the 
"sack/' she had asked for her humble caller's ad- 
dress and expressed her intention of sending the 
little sick girl a cheer-up present. 

Left alone, Mrs. Weatherbee sat smiling rather 
absently at the dainty blue and white bit of knit- 
ting which she had taken from its wrapper. She 
thought she understood very well how it had hap- 
pened to stray into the rubbish can. She now re- 
called that the rubbish cans about Chesterford 
and at the edge of the campus were much the 
shape and size of the package boxes used by the 
postal service. Given a dark, rainy night and an 
absent-minded messenger, the result was now 
easy to anticipate. Here was proof piled high of 
Judith Steams' "fatal failing." 

There was but one thing more to be done be- 
fore winding-up summarily an affair that had 
been to her vexatious from the beginning. She 
had obtained plenty of evidence for the defense. 
Now she turned her attention to the prosecution. 
She had yet to hold a private word with Elsie 
Noble. This she resolved to do directly the f resh^ 
man in question had returned to the Hall from 
her afternoon classes. 

iElsie, on her part, had been looking forward to 



284 J^NE ALLEN 

this very interview with a degree of sullen satis- 
faction. On the day following the scene in Mrs. 
Weatherbee's room, Marian had informed her 
cousin of all that had taken place. As a result, 
Elsie had flown into a tempestuous rage over hav- 
ing been dragged into the trouble by Marian. 

"Y&uVe got to do as I say, Elsie. If you 
don't, you'll be sorry," Marian had coldly threat- 
ened. ''Maiz and I will drop you. Besides, I'll 
tell Mrs. Weatherbee all about that register busi- 
ness. Then she'll believe you listened outside the 
dressing-room, no matter how much you may 
deny it." 

"I'll do as I please," Elsie had furiously re- 
torted, and flung herself out of Marian's room. 

Not at all alarmed by her cousin's anger, Ma- 
rian had confidently remarked to Maizie: "Elsie 
doesn't dare go back on us. She'll do as I tell 
her. She always fusses a lot, then gives in. She 
has no more time for those three prigs than we 
have." 

For once she was mistaken. Elsie had 
changed, though she alone knew it. Her secret 
admiration for Norma had paved the way to bet- 
ter things. She now rebelled at the thought of 
facing this sweet, truthful-eyed girl with a lie on 
her own lips. Marian's threat to expose her 






RIGHT GUARD 285 

fault had awakened her to a bitter knowledge of 
her cousin's unbounded malice. She experienced 
a belated revulsion of feeling toward Judith 
Steams. Jane Allen's explanation of the gown 
incident, scornfully repeated to Elsie by Marian, 
now stood for truth in Elsie's mind. 

Having gone thus far, Elsie next mentally 
weighed Marian's bolder accusation against 
Judith concerning the missing jewelry. Face to 
face with her cousin's utter lack of principle, for 
the first time it occurred to her to wonder whether 
Marian might not know better than anyone else 
the whereabouts of the missing pin and ring. She 
decided to do a little private investigating of her 
own. 

When, at five o'clock on the fateful Monday 
afternoon, the maid brought her word that Mrs. 
Weatherbee wished to see her, she went down- 
stairs to the matron's office, fully equipped for 
emergency. The recital which she indignantly 
poured into the latter's shocked ears was the cli- 
max to an eventful djiy for Mrs. Weatherbee. 

It may be said to Elsie's credit that she did not 
spare herself or even attempt to palliate her own 
offenses. She made a frank confession of her 
faults and expressed an honest and sincere con- 
trition for them which showed plainly that her 



286 JANE ALLEN 

feet were at last planted upon the solid ground of 
right. She was no longer the "ignoble Noble." 

"After what IVe told you, I know you won't 
allow me to live here at the Hall any more," she 
said huskily. "I deserve to be punished. I'm go- 
ing to accept it, too, as bravely as I can. I've 
been doing wrong all year, but at last IVe come 
to my senses. I know that for once I'm doing 
right and it comforts me a good deal." 

This straightforward avowal would have 
moved to compassion a far harder-hearted woman 
than was Mrs. Weatherbee. The matron realized 
that the* dry-eyed, resolute-faced girl seated op- 
posite her had been punished sufficiently by her 
own conscience. 

"I shall not ask you to leave Madison Hall, my 
dear child," she assured very gently. "I wish you 
to stay on here because I am convinced that would 
be best for you. In justice to others, however, I 
must ask you to come to my room this evening, 
prepared to stand by me in whatever I may re- 
quire of you." 

"I thimk you, Mrs. Weatherbee," Elsie said 
with deep earnestness. "I'll be only too glad to 
stand by you. I'm going upstairs now to get my 
wraps and I sha'n't be here to dinner to-night. I 
know Marian will be looking for me as soon as 



RIGHT GUARD 287 

she receives word from you to come to her room. 
It will be best for me not to see her again mitil 
then. Don't you think so?" 

"Under the circumstances, I should prefer that 
you hold no conversation with her beforehand," 
agreed the matron. 

Thus ended the momentous interview. Woman 
and girl pledged their good faith in a warm hand 
clasp, and Elsie left the office feeling hke one 
from whose shoulders a heavy burden had sud- 
denly dropped. ' 

''Where is Elsie?" was Marian Seaton's des- 
perate inquiry, when at five minutes to eight she 
entered her room, following a fruitless search for 
her cousin. 

"Search me," shrugged Maizie. "Very likely 
Weatherbee never said a word to her. I know 
she hadn't as late as luncheon to-day, for I asked 
Elsie and she said *No.' We're just as well off 
without her. She has no more diplomacy than a 
goose. She's been so grouchy all week, that I 
don't trust her." 

"Oh, she's harmless," frowned Marian. "Now 
listen to me, Maizie. If, when we get into 
Weatherbee's room, things don't look favorable, 
we'd better be ready to sUde out of the whole busi- 



288 JANE ALLEN, 

ncss. We can withdraw the charge, you know. 
That will end the whole thing." 

Maizie made no reply, save hy smiling in her 
slow, aggravating f ashion« She had her own 
ideas on the subject, but she was too indifferent 
of results to express them. At least, so she be- 
Jlieved. 

¥' Her indifference fell away a trifle, however, as 
'She and Marian were presently ushered into Mrs. 
Weatherbee's room by a most stony-faced ma- 
tron. Instead of finding there three girls, a dis- 
turbing fourth was present. Decidedly disturb- 
ing to Marian's peace of mind. 

At sight of Elsie Noble, who sat stolidly be- 
side Norma on the davenport, Marian's face 
darkened. Walking straight over to her cousin, 
she asked furiously: 

"Where were you this evening?" 

"That will do. Miss Seaton." Mrs. Weather- 
bee now took command of the situation. "Kindly 
sit down and allow me to manage this affair." 

With a baleful glance at Elsie, Marian sul- 
lenly obeyed the stem voice. 

"It is not necessary to go into the subject of 
why you are here," began the matron, addressing 
the silent group of girls. "I will proceed at once 
to business. I shall first read you a portion of a 



RIGHT GUARD 289 

letter from Edith Allison, formerly Edith Ham- 
mond." 

Taking up an open letter from a pile of pa- 
pers that lay on a small tahle heside her, she read 
aloud: 

"Deae Mbs. Weathebbee: 

"What a shame that such an imfortunate 
misunderstanding should have arisen over 
that unlucky white lace gown of mine. It 
was really a ridiculous mistake all around. 
Jane's explanation, of course, convinced you 
of that. It would never have happened if 
Judy's gown and mine had not been so nearly 
alike. We aU had a good laugh over it, when 
Jane finally straightened out the tangle. 

"I can't understand Miss Seaton's not 
knowing about Judy's absent-mindedness. 
It was the joke of the freshman class last 
year. She figured prominently in the grind 
book. I am extremely indignant to hear that 
her honesty has ever been doubted. She is 
one of the finest, most honorable girls I have 
ever known. I am very glad you wrote me 
about this." 

"I shall not read the remainder of this letter. 



290 JANE ALLEN 

as it has no further bearing on the case," an- 
nounced the matron in dignified tones. ^'Miss 
Seaton/' she turned coldly to Marian, ^'Miss 
Noble assures me that she never overheard a con- 
versation such as you attributed to her. I have, 
therefore, drawn my own conclusions. They are 
not flattering to you or Miss Gilbert. I now ask 
you and I demand a truthful answer, which of 
you two overheard that conversation?" 

"I refuse to answer you," snapped Marian, her 
face flaming. 

"I am answered," returned the older woman 
gravely. "The subject of the gown is now closed. 
We will take up that of your missing jewelry. I 
will now inform you that it has been found." 

"Found 1" Marian sprang to her feet in pre- 
tended surprise. "Then the person who stole it 
must have given it back!" She cast a malicious 
glance at Judith as she thus exclaimed. 

"Miss SeatonI" Never before had Mrs. 
Weatherbee's voice held such a degree of utter 
displeasure. "You know, as does also Miss Gil- 
bert, the utter injustice of such remarks. You 
know, too, where to look for the jewelry. It has 
never been out of your possession." 

"I haven't it. I don't know where it is." Ma- 
rian's voice rose in shrill contradiction. 



RIGHT GUARD 291 

I = 

"Oh, yes you do, Marian," bluntly differed 
!Elsie Noble. "The ring and pin are in a little 
white box in the tray of your trunk. I saw them 
there yesterday. I went into your room while 
you were both out yesterday and hunted for them. 
After you showed me how spiteful you could be, 
I decided you were capable of even that. So I 
thought I'd find it out for myself, and I did." 

"Not a word she says is true," Marian fiercely 
denied. "She's an eavesdropper and a mischief- 
maker. She " 

"Mrs. Weatherbee knows all about me," coolly 
informed Elsie. "She knows, too, that I'm done 
with all that. You needn't deny that the pin and 
ring weren't there yesterday. I saw them. You 
may have put them somewhere else by now, 
though." 

"Will you please not interrupt me?" Marian 
had decided to make a last desperate attempt to 
crawl out of the snarl she was in. She fully real- 
ized the seriousness of the situation. 

Addressing the matron, she said brazenly, "I 
came here to-night with the intention of with- 
drawing my charge against Miss Steams. Miss 
Gilbert and I had decided that she was innocent. 
Whoever took the jewelry must have become 
frightened and put it back without my knowing 



292 JANE ALLEN 

it. I will go at once and look in my trunk, since 
my cousin insists that it is '* 

"You will kindly remain where you are," or- 
dered Mrs. Weatherbee tersely. "Later, I shall 
insist on seeing both the ring and the pin. You 
and Miss Gilbert will now apologize to Miss 
Steams for the trouble you have caused her. 
You will also apologize to Miss Allen and Miss 
Sennett.'* 

"I was mistaken about the gown and the jew- 
elry," Marian admitted with a toss of her head. 
She was addressing no one in particular. "I have 
nothing more to say." 

"I was also mistaken," drawled Maizie imper- 
turbably. Nevertheless a curious look of dread 
had crept into her sleepy black eyes. Matters 
were at their worst, it appeared. Things had 
been stirred up altogether too much for safety. 
Elsie had proved anything but harmless. 

"Do you accept this apology?" inquired the 
matron of the three defendants. 

"I do, provided Miss Seaton promises strictly 
to have nothing more to say in future against any 
of us to anybody," stipulated Judith with quiet 
finality. 

"I will accept it under the same conditions," 
Jane said quietly. 



RIGHT GUARD 293 

"And I," nodded Norma. 

"Neither Miss Seaton nor Miss Gilbert will 
circulate any more injurious reports about any- 
one," assured Mrs. Weatherbee grimly. "This 
matter in itself is suflScient to warrant suspension 
from college. 

"I regret that there is still another grave 
charge against you/' she continued, fixing the 
guilty pair with a relentless gaze. "I have been 
informed that you. Miss Seaton, are the author 
of a malicious letter signed * Jane Allen,' which 
I received before college opened." 

This time it was Jane who received a shock. 
She had come to the matron's room prepared to 
take up the cudgels in Judith's behalf. Elsie 
Noble's unexpected stand on the side of right had 
been amazing enough. Elsie had certainly been 
the chief witness for the defense. Was it she who 
had told Mrs. Weatherbee about the letter? 

"I haven't the least idea of what you mean," 
Marian haughtily retorted. 

"That's not true," contradicted the invincible 
Elsie. "You know perfectly well that you sent 
that letter to Mrs. Weatherbee. You told me so 
yourself." 

"I did nothing of the kind," persisted Marian. 

"Then how did I know about it?" triiunph- 



294 J^NE ALLEN . 

antly demanded Elsie. "J mentioned it to Mrs. 
Weatherbee. She never mentioned it to me. If 
I had known then just how spiteful you could be 
I'd never have let you write it. You told me be- 
fore I came to Wellington that Jane AUen was 
a hateful, deceitful, untruthful girl who had done 
you a lot of harm. I know now that she isn't. I 
know that you are. I'm sorry that you're my 
cousin and I don't intend to have anything fur- 
ther to do with you." 

When Elsie had begun speaking, Mrs. Weath- 
erbee had been on the point of checking her. She 
refrained, however, because she realized suddenly 
that Marian deserved this arraignment. She had 
manufactiu*ed trouble out of whole cloth; now she 
fully merited her cousin's plain speaking. 

"You have said a good deal about injustice, 
Mrs. Weatherbee. I think it very unfair that I 
should be accused of something which I don't in 
the least imderstand," began Marian, with a fine 
pretense of injured innocence. "I should like to 
see the letter you accuse me of writing." 

From underneath the pile of papers on the 
table, the matron drew forth a typed letter. She 
handed it to Marian without a word. 

Marian read it, then laughed disagreeably. 

**No wonder Elsie knew of it," she sneered. 



RIGHT GUARD 295 

"This is some of her work. She was crazy to get 
into Madison Hall with us. She knew there 
would be no vacancies. I had'told her that. She 
listened to what I had said about Miss Allen, 
every word of it's true, too, by the way, and had 
someone type this letter. After that she applied 
for admission. Very clever indeed, Elsie, but 
you mustn't lay it to me. The signature is cer- 
tainly not in my handwriting.*' 

It was now Marian's turn to look triimiphant. 

"The whole trouble with Elsie is that I threat- 
ened to expose her for eavesdropping," she con- 
tinued. "She has made me all this fuss simply 
to be even. She knows that she is responsible 
for this letter. The fact that she mentioned it to 
you, Mrs. Weatherbee, is proof enough, I should 
say. Certainly you have no proof that I had any- 
thing to do with it, beyond what she says. Her 
word counts for nothing." 

A breathless silence followed Marian's bold 
turning of the tables. Elsie gave a sharp gasp 
of pure consternation. 

"Oh, I didn't do it I" she stammered, casting 
an appealing glance about her. "I — ^hope — ^you 
— don't — believe " 

"Here is the proof that you didn't," broke in 
Jane Allen's resolute tones. She had resolved to 



296 JANE ALLEN 

come to the defense of the girl who had so sturd- 
ily defended Judith. From her hlouse she had 
drawn Eleanor's letter and the carbon copy of 
the letter which Mrs. Weatherbee had received. 

When the latter had finished examining both, 
she looked up and said in a dry, hard voice : 

^'This is the most dishonorable affair I have 
ever known to happen at Wellington. I shall 
certainly take it up with Miss Rutledge. There 
is now no room left for doubt regarding the au- 
thorship of this letter. It is undeniably your 
work, Miss Seaton. It remains yet to be discov- 
ered what part Miss Gilbert played in it." 

Without further preliminary, the incensed ma- 
tron read aloud Eleanor's letter. 

Marian Seaton turned from red to pale as she 
listened. Maizie kept her eyes resolutely on the 
floor. This last bit of evidence was too over- 
whelming to be disputed. It could not be ex- 
plained away. 

"What have you to say to this?" demanded 
Mrs. Weatherbee of Marian. 

"Nothing," was the muttered reply. 

The matron had a great deal to say. For the 
next ten minutes she lectured the culprits with 
scathing severity. 

"I shall recommend that you be expelled from 



RIGHT GUARD 297 

college. Miss Seaton. Miss Gilbert, were you 
also a party to this affair?" 

"Yes," was the tranquil response, "I knew all 
about it. Can't say I'm very proud of it. Still, 
it's rather too late now for regrets." 

Maizie raised her unfathomable black eyes 
from their studied scrutiny of the floor. Quite 
by chance they met Jane's gray ones. Jane had 
a peculiar impression as of a veil that had been 
slowly lifted, revealing to her a Maizie Gilbert 
who had the possibilities of something higher than 
malicious mischief -making. 

Obeying an impulse which suddenly swayed 
her, she turned to the matron. 

"Mrs. Weatherbee," she said, "can't this affair 
be settled now and among ourselves? After all, 
no great harm has really come of it. The missing 
jewelry has been foimd, Judith has been exoner- 
ated, I still have my room, and no one except 
those present knows what has taken place here 
to-night. We are willing to forget it if you are. 
I am speaking for Judith and Norma. I am sure 
Elsie doesn't want her cousin to be expelled. 
Can't we blot it out and begin over again?" 

"I should like it to be that way," said Judith 
quietly. 

Norma nodded silent concurrence. 



298 JANE ALLEN 

"I'll never forgive Marian, but I'd hate to see 
her expelled," Elsie said, after a brief hesitation. 
"I don't think Maizie ought to be, either. It's not 
half as much her fault as Marian's." 

Perhaps this latest turn of the tide amazed 
Mrs. Weatherbee most of all. For a time she 
silently scanned the group of girls before her. 
She had not reckoned that the defense would sud- 
denly swing about and plead for the defeated 
prosecution. 

"I cannot answer you now. Miss Allen," she 
gravely replied. "I can appreciate, however, 
your generosity of spirit. I shall ask all of you 
to leave me now. Later I will inform you of my 
decision." 

Each feeling that there was nothing more to be 
said, the six girls obediently rose to depart. Ma- 
rian walked to the door, looking neither to the 
right nor left. Without waiting for Maizie she 
made a hurried exit. 

Maizie took her time, however. Her hand on 
the door knob she turned and addressed Jane. 

"You're a real Right Guard," she said in her 
slow, drawling fashion. "Not only on the team, 
but in everything else. I'm sorry it took me so 
long to find it out." 



i 



(CHAPTER XXVII 

CONCLUSION 

AS a result of the events of the previous 
evening, Marian Seaton and Maizie Gil- 
bert put in a very bad day. It began by 
a wild fit of weeping on Marian's part, after 
breakfast and in her room that morning. At 
breakfast she managed to keep up a semblance of 
her usual self-assured, arrogant manner, but the 
moment she reached her room she crumpled. 

"Don't be a baby, Marian," was Maizie's rough 
advice, as she stolidly prepared to go to her first 
recitation of the day. "You brought this trouble 
on yourself. You might as well take the conse- 
quences without whimpering. You'd better cut 
your first recitation. Your eyes are a sight." 

"I'm not going to any of my classes to-day. 
Go on about your own business and let me 
alone/' was Marian's equally rude retort. 

299 



300 JANE ALLEN 



Maizie merely shrugged at this aimoui^cement 
and went stoically upon her way. She was made 
of sterner stuff than her unworthy room-mate, 
and with the realization that she had beliaved 
very badly indeed, she had now steeled herself to 
accept her punishment bravely. 

Marian, on the contrary, moped in her room 
all morning, went to Rutherford Inn for a lonely 
luncheon and returned to the Hall and her room 
to weep again and ponder darkly over her un- 
happy situation. She tried in vain to prepare 
an argument by which she might clear herself 
should Mrs. Weatherbee decide to expose her 
wrong-doing to Miss Rutledge. She could think 
of nothing that might carry weight. The case 
against her was too complete to afford the slight- 
est loophole for escape. 

As the day dragged on she gave up in despair. 
She made up her mind that her only hope now 
lay in appealing to Mrs. Weatherbee for mercy. 
She resolved to pretend deep remorse arid prom- 
ise a future uprightness of conduct to which she 
had no intention of living up. 

At five o'clock that afternoon, Maizie walked 
in upon the despondent Marian with: "Mrs. 
Weatherbee wants to see us in her room. The 



RIGHT GUAI^D 301 

maid just told me. I'm glad of it. I'm anxious- 
to have the matter settled." 

"If Mrs. Weatherbee tells us that she is going 
to report us to Miss Rutledge, Maizie, we must 
beg her not to do it," quavered Marian. "We 
must promise her anything rather than let her go 
to Miss Rutledge. That's what I intend to da 
and so must you." 

Maizie regarded Marian with the air of one 
who was carefully weighing the cowardly coun- 
sel. All she said was: 

"Come on. We mustn't keep her waiting." 

First glance at the matron's face as they were 
admitted to her room filled both girls with re- 
newed apprehension. She looked more uncom- 
promisingly stem than ever. With a brusque 
invitation to be seated, she took a chair directly 
opposite them and began addresising them in 
cool, measured tones: 

"My original intention was to defer a decision 
of your case for several days, at least," she said. 
"Thinking the matter over to-day, I came to the 
conclusion that the sooner this disagreeable af- 
fair was settled and off my mind, the better 
pleased I should be. 

"Both of you deserve expulsion from college*. 



302 JANE ALLEN 

I am sure that Miss Rutledge would be of the 
same opinion were I to lay the matter before her. 
Frankly, I have decided not to do so simply on 
account of Miss Steams and Miss Allen, These 
two young girls have shown themselves great 
enough of spirit to overlook the injury you have 
endeavored to do them. This has made a marked 
impression upon me, so great, in fact, that I have 
determined not to report this very disagreeable 
affair to Miss Rutledge. Since it has occurred 
at the Hall and has no bearing on any one out- 
side the Hall, I feel that I am justified in settling 
it as I deem wisest for all concerned. 

"The fact that you are both yoimg girls, also, 
has something to do with it. In my opinion it is 
a very shocking matter for a young woman to 
be expelled from college. You have been tmder 
my charge for almost two years, and I feel in a 
measure responsible for you. On this account 
and because Miss Steams and Miss Allen have 
interceded for you, I shall not inform Miss Rut- 
ledge of your dishonorable conduct. 

"For the remainder of the college year I shall 
allow you to continue under my charge at the 
Hall. When you leave Madison Hall in June, 
however, it will be with the understanding that 
you cannot return to it the following autumn. 



RIGHT GUARD 303 

[You must make arrangements to live at another 
campus house." 

Thus far neither girl had been given the least 
opportunity of speaking. As it happened, neither 
had the slightest desire to speak. Both were feel- 
ing too intensely relieved for words. First to 
recover from the good news that she and Maizie 
would escape the punishment they merited, 
Marian Seaton now said with a faint touch of 
asperity: 

"Why won't you allow us to come back to 
Madison Hall next year, Mrs. Weatherbee ? We 
prefer it to any other campus house. If we give 
you our word of honor to let Judith Stearns and 
her crowd alone, isn't that sufficient?" 

"No, Miss Seaton, it is not. I repeat that you 
must make other arrangements for next year. 
One thing more and we will conclude this inter- 
view. You must both pledge yourselves to good 
hehavior while you are here. If I hear of any 
attempts on your part to malign a fellow student, 
either by word or deed, I shall revoke my decis- 
ion and put your case before Miss Rutledge. 
Nothing except absolute fair play on your part 
will be tolerated here. That is all. You are at 
liberty to go." 

Fighting back her anger, Marian arose, and 



304 JANE ALLEN 

with a stijBF, "Thank you, Mrs. Weatherbee," 
walked to the door. She was. congratulating her- 
self that she had not been forced to ask favors 
of that "hard-hearted old tyrant." 

Maizie rose, but made no attempt to follow 
Marian. Instead she raised unfathomable black 
eyes to the matron and said: 

"You are kinder to us than we deserve. I 
thank you." 

Then she turned abruptly and followed Marian 
from the room. 

Back in their own room, she walked over to 
her bed and sat down on it and eyed Marian re- 
flectively. 

"Well, what's the matter with you?" asked 
Marian crossly. "You make me tired. Why did 
you say to that old dragon that she'd been kinder 
to us than we deserved? It wasn't necessary. 
The idea of her turning us out of Madison Hall. 
And we can't do anything to stop her, either. 
She has the whip hand and she knows it. It's a 
positive outrage and the whole affair is Elsie's 
fault, the hateful little hypocrite. She'll be sorry. 
I'll never rest until I pay her back for this." 

"It strikes me," drawled Maizie, "that there's 
been altogether too much of this Spaying back' 



RIGHT GUARD 305 

business. You'd best drop it, Marian. You are 
not a success in that line. As for me, I'm tired 
of it. JL used to think it great fun and exciting, 
but now I know that it's petty, mean and un- 
worthy. If I could be as true to myself as Jane 
Allen is, I'd be happy." 

''Jane AUenr exclaimed Marian in exaspera- 
tion. "I liate the very sound of her name. I sup- 
pose now, since you seem to admire her so much, 
you'll begin running after her." 

"No, not yet," was the tranquil response. 
"Perhaps never. I don't know. I'm going to 
stick to you for the present. I've been a party 
to your schemes and it wouldn't be right to desert 
you. But from now on, I am going to be fair 
with these girls. I warn you not to come to me 
with any plans of yours for getting even with 
them. I won't listen to them. If you are wise 
you won't make them. But you won't be wise. 
I know you too well. Only don't coimt on me 
to help you. The old Maizie is dead. I don't 
know what the new one's going to be like. I'll 
have to wait and find out." 

"You're a big goose," sneered Marian. "I 
never thought you'd be so silly. And all on 
account of that priggish Jane Allen. She's " 



3o6 JANE ALLEN 

**She's a fine girl,** declared Maizie with an 
ominous flash of her black eyes. "I only wish 
you and I were more like her.** 

Meanwhile, in company with Judith Steams, 
the objects of Maizie's newly discovered admira- 
tion were on their way to Mrs. Weatherbee's 
room. Immediately Marian and Maizie had de- 
parted, the matron had sent for Jane and Judith. 
For an hour they remained in friendly and very 
earnest conclave with Mrs. Weatherbee. When 
at last they left her, it was with the feeling that 
everything was once more right with their little 
world. 

The instant the door of their own room closed 
behind the two, they expressed their emotions by 
clinging to each other in joyful embrace. 

"Thank goodness, it's come out all right 1" ex- 
claimed Judith. "We'd never have felt quite 
comfortable if Mrs. Weatherbee had taken it 
higher. Marian and Maizie would have been ex- 
pelled from Wellington, that's certain. It is 
enough punishment for them to have been told 
that they couldn't come back to Madison Hall 
next year and wouldn't be allowed to stay here 
for the rest of this year only on the promise of 
strict good behavior." 



RIGHT GUARD 307 

"I can't feel sony about that part of it," de- 
clared Jane. "I think we are justified in being 
glad that Marian Seaton will be in another cam- 
pus house next year. To tell you the truth I 
wouldn't mind Maizie's being here. She's a 
strange girl, Judy. There's a lot to her beneath 
that lazy, indifferent manner of hers. I'll never 
forget the way she looked when she turned to me 
and spoke about my being Right Guard." 

"She looked as though she'd been asleep for a 
long time and then had suddenly waked up," 
nodded Judith. "And Elsie Noble 1 I can't get 
over the way she turned around and stood up for 
us. Just to think, too, she told Mrs. Weatherbee 
that it was Norma who had made her feel as 
though she wanted to be different. And Norma 
never even knew how much Elsie admired her." 

"It shows that a person who does right and 
thinks right is bound to influence others without 
ever saying a word," Jane said reflectively. 

"Yes, that's so," Judith agreed. "One never 
knows how much every little thing one says and 
does is going to impress others. I shall have to 
be pretty careful how I behave in future. My 
fatal failing's likely to land me in penetentiary 
yet, if I don't reform," she added with a giggle. 



3o8 JANE ALLEN 

** You'll have to learn to distinguish between a 
rubbish can and a package box, Judy," laughed 
Jane. 

During the confidential talk with Jane and 
Judith, Mrs. Weatherbee had told Judith all 
about the missing sweater and its amazing return 
into her hands. 

"It wouldn't have happened if some one hadn't 
moved that rubbish can up near the package 
box,*' asserted Judith. "It was so dark, and rain- 
ing so hard I didn't stop to look. The lids of the 
rubbish can lift up on each side from the middle, 
you know. Of course, if I had my mind on 
what I was doing it wouldn't have happened, but 
I didn't. 

"Mrs. Weatherbee didn't say so, but I'm sure 
she must have thought that the sweater Aunt 
Jennie made me was the missing one," Judith 
opined. "Honestly, Jane, I believe if it hadn't 
been for that, she never would have listened to 
Marian Seaton's accusations against me." 

This surmise on Judith's part was, of course, 
largely correct. In telling Judith of the incident 
of the sweater, the matron had made no mention 
of her own private suspicions. In reality she was 
ashamed of them but could not bring herself to 
sacrifice her dignity by admitting the fact. This 



RIGHT GUARD 309 

had influenced her to leniency in the case of Ma- 
rian and Maizie. She felt that she, too, had been 
secretly at fault in the matter. 

"I dare say she wouldn't have,'* Jane smiled. 
**Between you and me, Judy, I think this affair 
has taught Mrs. Weatherbee quite a lot about 
girls that she didn't know before. She seemed 
kinder and more gentle to-night than IVe ever 
known her to be. Perhaps it's been a good thing 
all aroimd." 

"I guess it has," concurred Judith. "It's set 
lElsie Noble on her feet, waked Maizie Gilbert up 
and put Marian Seaton on her good behavior for 
a while. We'll have no more trouble with her this 
year. We can rest easy on that score. What 
ishe'll do next year is hard to say. As soon as she 
gets into another campus house and away from 
Mrs. Weatherbee, she'll probably start in to do 
something to bother us. Only next time she'll be 
more careful. She'll never change, you know. 
It's not in her to be different." 

"Well, I'm not concerned about next year or 
Marian Seaton either," emphasized Jane. "We 
have too many pleasant things to think about. 
We've got to practice hard and beat the freshmen 
in the next basket-ball game. If we beat them 
this time, it will be a complete whitewash for 



3IO JANE ALLEN 



them. We must do it, too. I intend to prove my- 
self an invincible Bight Guard in basket-ball at 
least/' 

"You're a faithful old Right Guard all aroimd, 
Janie/' was Judith's affectionate tribute. "Next 
year, I predict you'll be playing Center on the 
team, and Center in the hearts of the Wellington- 
ites. You may not believe me, but you're the only 
girl I know who'll be able to fill Dorothy's place 
here. You'll be as much a power for good some 
day, perhaps even more, than she's been." 

"If I could be half as fine and splendid as 
Dorothy is I'd be satisfied. I know I can't. All 
I can do is to keep on trying," was Jane's earnest 
avowal. "I'd love to play Center next year on 
the team, but that's not for me to decide. I may 
not even make the team. If I do, I'll be content 
with that. Just Jane Allen, Right Guard, is 
honor enough for me." 

How far beyond her modest aspirations Jane 
was destined to go, not only in basket-ball but in 
other respects as well, will be told in the next vol- 
ume of this series to be entitled, "Jane Allen: 
Center." 

THE end 



THE JANE ALLEN COLLEGE 
SERIES 



By EDITH BANCROFT 



12mo. Illustrated. With cover inlay and jacket m colon 
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This series is a decided departure from 
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1. JANE ALLEN OF THE SUB TEAM 

When Jane Allen left her home in Mon- 
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she was sure that she could never learn to 
endure the restrictions of college life. 



2. JANE ALLEN: RIGHT GUARD ^ 

Jane Allen becomes a sophomore at Wellington College, but 
she has to face a severe trial that requires all her courage and char* 
acter. The result is a triumph for being faithful to an ideal. 

3. JANE ALLEN: CENTER 

Lovable Jane Allen as Junior experiences delightful days of work 
and play. Jane, and her chum, Judith, win leadership in class 
office, social and athletic circles of Sophs and Juniors. 

4. JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 

Jane Allen's college experiences, as continued in **JaLne Allen, 
Junior," afford the chance for a brilliant story. A rude, country 
girl forces her way into Wellington under false pretenses. 

5. JAKE ALLEN: SENIOR 

Jane and Judith undertake Social Service, wherein they find 
actual problems more thrilling than were those of the "indoor 
sports.' 

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Patsy Carroll succeeds in ooasdng her father to lease one of the 
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How the girls solve the mystery makes a splendid story. 



PATSY CAMIOLL UNDER SOUTHERN 

Patsy Carroll and her three chums spend their Easter vacatioa 
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Set in the background of the Tercentenary of the landing of the 
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RIGHT GUARD 267 

iii^hich she had dishonorably listened on the night 
of the freshman frolic. 

"You were heard to admit that you had stolen 
a gown from Edith Hammond," she triumph- 
antly accused. "That Edith blamed Miss Ben- 
nett and that she confessed you had stolen it. 
Also that Miss Allen settled for it and you all 
agreed to keep it a secret. Worse yet, you and 
Miss Allen only laughed and joked about what 
you, called *your fatal failing.* Deny if you can 
that^you two had such a conversation." 

I>uring this amazing recital the faces of at 
least three listeners had registered a variety of 
expi^essions. Marian's spiteful challenge met 
with imexpected results. Of a sudden the trio 
burst into imcontroUed laughter. 

"Qirls," rebuked Mrs. Weatherbee sharply, 
"this^^ is hardly a time for laughter. "Miss 
Steams, dp you or do you not deny that you and 
Miss iUlen held the conversation Miss Seaton 
accuses you of holding?" 

"Of course we did," cheerfully answered 
Judith, her mirthful features sobering. 

"Then you " 

*^We were in the dressing room on the night of 
the freshman frolic when it took place/' broke in 



268 JANE ALLEN 

Jane. "May I ask where yow were. Miss Seaton, 
when you overheard it?" 

Jane's gray eyes rested scornfully upon Ma- 
rian as she flashed out her question. 

"I — I wasn't anywhere," snapped Marian. "I 
— someone else overheard it." 

"Then ^someone else' should have taken pains 
to learn the truth before spreading malicious un- 
truth," tensely condemned Jane. 

Tinning to the matron, she said bitterly: 

"Mrs. Weatherbee, this whole story is simply 
spite-work; nothing else. When I have ex- 
plained the true meaning of Judith's and my talk 
together in the dressing-room, you will under- 
stand everything. Judith's fatal failing is not 
kleptomania. It's merely absent-mindedness." 

Rapidly Jane narrated the incident of the miss- 
ing white lace gown, belonging to Edith Ham- 
mond, in which herself, Judith and Norma had 
figured in the previous year. She finished with: 

"I shall ask you to write to Edith for corrob- 
oration of my story. I mu$t also insist on know- 
ing the name of the girl who overheard our talk, j 
She must be told the facts. We cannot aflFord to 
allow such injurious gossip to be circulated about 
any of us. Judith in particular. Further, it is 
ridiculous even to connect her with the disappear- 



RIGHT GUARD 269 

ance of Miss Seaton's ring and Miss Gilbert's 
pin. 

"Oh, is it?" cried Marian in shrill anger. "Just 
let me tell you that both the ring and the pin were 
stolen from oiur room. We posted a notice and 
offered a reward, hoping to get them back with- 
out raising a disturbance. It's easy enough for 
you to make up the silly tale you've just told. I 
don't believe it. You're only trying to cover the 
real truth by pretending that Miss Steams is 
absent-minded. It's not hard to see through yoiur 
flimsy pretext." 

"That will do. Miss Seaton." Mrs. Weather- 
bee now took st^m command of the situation. "I 
have no reason to believe that Miss Allen has not 
spoken the truth. This affair seems to consist 
largely of a misimderstanding, coupled with a 
good deal of spite work. You will oblige me by 
giving me the name of the girl who overheard the 
conversation." 

Marian did not at once reply. Instead, she cast 
a hasty, inquiring glance at Maizie. The latter 
answered it with a slight smile and a nod of the 
head. 

"It was my cousin. Miss Noble, who overheard 
the conversation," she reluctantly admitted. 
"She repeated it to me in confidence. She does 



262 JANE ALLEN 

she admitted them to her room convinced both 
that something disagreeable was impending. 

"Sit down, girls," the matron invited, in her 
usual reserved fashion. "I have sent for Miss 
Bennett. She will be here in a moment." 

This merely added to Jane's and Judith's per- 
plexity. Jane shot a bewildered glance toward 
Judith, as the two silently seated themselves. Di- 
rectly a light rapping at the door announced Nor- 
ma's arrival. She was also formally greeted and 
requested to take a seat. 

For a moment the matron surveyed the trio as 
though imdetermined how to address them. 
When she finally spoke, there was a note of hesi- 
tation in her voice. 

"A very peculiar story has been told me," she 
said, "which intimately concerns you three girls, 
particularly Miss Steams. Much as I dislike the 
idea, I am obliged, as matron of Madison Hall, 
to investigate it. 

"Certain students at the Hall have made very 
serious charges against you. Miss Steams. These 
charges are partially based on something that oc- 
curred here last year, of which I had no knowl- 
edge. I " 

''Mrs. Weatherbeet I insist on knowing at 
once what these charges arel" 



RIGHT GUARD 271 

you who listened outside the dressing-room/* 
shrugged Maizie. "Then you could have passed 
the whole thing off as a misunderstanding. That 
would have ended it. Now we're both in for a 
fine lot of trouble." 

"Then why did you nod yoiur head when I 
looked at you?" asked Marian fiercely. 

"Oh, just to keep things going," drawled 
Maizie. "I like to see those girls all fussed up 
about nothing. Besides, Weatherbee can't do 
anything very serious about our part of it. She 
can say we are mischief-makers and call us down 
and that's all. No one except ourselves knows 
the truth about the ring and the pin. That's the 
only thing that could really get us into trouble." 

"No one will ever know, either," declared Ma- 
rian. "They're both in the tray of my trunk. 
We'll take them home with us at Easter and leave 
them there. That will be safest." 

"You certainly leaped before you looked, this 
time," chuckled Maizie. "That gown business 
was funny." 

"Well, how \*^as I to know? I heard Judy 
Steams say she stole it," retorted Marian testily. 
"The whole thing sounded suspicious enough to 
hang our losses on. Just the same I shall keep 
on saying now that I believe she stole our stuff. 



«7* 



JANE ALLEN 



Hn. Wcatfaerbee needn't Hunk she can make me 
keep quiet. I lia;re a perfect right to my own be- 
lief and IH ace to it that Oftiiers besides myself 



sfaneiL" 



CHAPTER XXVI 

THE STAB WITNESS 

IN Jane's and Judith's room a highly dis- 
gusted trio of girls held session directly they 
had left Mrs. Weatherbee. Far from feel- 
ing utterly crushed and humiliated by Marian's 
accusations, Judith was filled with lofty disdain 
of Marian's far-fetched attempt to discredit her, 

"I suppose I ought to feel dreadfully cut up 
over being accused of theft," she said, "but I 
can't. The whole business seems positively im- 
real. Jane, do you believe it was the ignoble 
Noble who overheard us talking that night?" 

"No; I think it was either Maizie or Marian," 
returned Jane positively. "Didn't you see them 
exchange glances? Then Maizie nodded. They 
had agreed to put the blame on Miss Noble." 

"I wonder i? she had agreed to let them," re- 
marked Norma. "I suppose she had. Other-^ 

27Z 



266 JANE ALLEN 



face to face with those she had maligned. Maizie 
appeared merely sleepily amused. 

"Kindly be seated, girls." Mrs. Weatherbee 
motioned them to an upholstered settee near the 
door. 

Casting a baleful glance at Jane, Marian com- 
plied with the terse invitation. Maizie dropped 
lazily down beside her, her slow smile in evidence. 
Matters promised to be interesting. 

"Miss Seaton," the matron immediately 
plunged into the business at hand, "you may re- 
peat to Miss Steams, Miss Allen and Miss Ben- 
nett what you have already told me concerning 
the affair of last year. Miss Steams has beefi in- 
formed of your charges against her. She wishes 
to defend herself.'* 

"I certainly do," emphasized Judith, "and I 
shall make you take it all back, too. Miss Sea ton." 

"I'm sorry I can't oblige you by taking it all 
back," sneered Marian. "I can merely repeat a 
little of a conversation that occurred between you 
and Miss Allen in which you condemned your- 
self." 

"Very well, repeat it," challenged Judith 
coolly. 

As nearly as she could remember, Marian re- 
peated the talk between Jane and Judith, to 



RIGHT GUARD 275 

make these girls drop the affair^ they won't drop 
it." 

"If Mrs. Weatherbee can't stop them, we cer- 
tainly can't," Judith responded rather anxiously. 
"I guess^ though, that she can. She's awfully 
determined, you know. I'm going to put my 
faith in her and not worry any more about it. I 
dare say if a thorough search were made of Ma- 
rian's and Maizie's room the lost jewelry would 
be found," she predicted bitterly. 

"That's precisely my opinion," nodded Jane. 
"If it comes to it I shall tell Mrs. Weatherbee so. 
I'd rather wait a little, though, to see how things 
pan out. This is Wednesday. I hope it will be 
settled and off our minds before Saturday. We'd 
hate to go into the game with the least bit of 
shadow hanging over us." 

"Oh, I guess it will be settled before then." 
Nevertheless Judith looked a trifle solemn. De- 
spite her declaration that she did not intend to 
worry, Jane's prediction had taken imcomfort- 
able hold on her. 

"I think she ought to have settled it to-night," 
was Norma's blunt opinion. "It wouldn't sur- 
prise me if she really wrote to Edith Hammond. 
Mrs. Weatherbee's peculiar. I know, because 
I've worked for her. She probably believes Jane, 



276 JANE ALLEN 



yet she's in doubt about something. I could tell 
that by the way she acted" 

"You don't believe she suspects me of stealing 
those girls' jewelry, do you?" questioned Judith 
in quick alarm. 

"I hardly think that," Norma said slowly. "I 
only know she's not quite in sympathy with you, 
Judy. If she had been she wouldn't have hesi- 
tated to settle things then and there." 

Norma's surmise was more accurate than not. 
Marian Seaton's sneering assertion that alleged 
absent-mindedness on Judith's part cloaked a 
grave failing had not been entirely lost on the 
matron. She could not forget the missing 
sweater. Was it possible, she wondered, that 
there might be truth in Marian's accusation? 

Privately she resolved to do three things before 
passing final judgment. She would write to 
Edith for corroboration of the gown story. She 
would make further inquiry, concerning Judith's 
absent-mindedness, of Dorothy Martin. She 
would have a private talk with Elsie Noble. This 
last was solely to determine whether Marian had 
spoken the truth in regard to Elsie's having over- 
heard the fateful conversation. She was as 
doubtful of Marian as she was of poor Judith. 

Mrs. Weatherbee intended to delay making in- 



RIGHT GUARD 277 

quiry of either Dorothy or Elsie until she had re- 
ceived a reply to a special delivery letter which 
she had dispatched to Edith Allison^ nee Edith 
HammcHid. 

In the interim Judith had gone from hopeful- 
ness to anxiety and from anxiety to nerv6usness. 
In consequence^ she failed to play on Saturday 
with her usual snap and vigor, and had not her 
team-mates put forth an extra eflPort, her unin- 
tentional lagging would have lost them the game. 
As it was they won it by only two points. 

Completely disgusted with herself, Judith 
broke down in the dressing-room and sobbed mis- 
erably. A proceeding which made Christine, 
Barbara and Adrienne wonder what in the world 
had happened to upset cheery^ light-hearted 
Judy. 

Back in her room^ Judith cried hartier than 
ever. 

"I*m all upset," she wailed, her head on Jane's 
comforting shoulder. "I don't see why Mrs. 
Weatherbee hasn't sent for us about that miser- 
able business. It's got on my nerves." 

"Never mind," soothed Jane. "If she doesn't 
let us know about it by Monday afternoon, ITl 
go to her myself. If I knew positively that Mar 
rian Seaton wrote the letter that nearly lost me 



278 JANE ALLEN 



my rooniy I'd tell Mrs. Weatherbee. It would 
only be giving her what she deserves." 

Monday morning, however, brought Mrs. 
IWeatherbee a letter from Edith Hammond, over 
ivhich she smiled, then looked imcompromisingly 
severe. Her stem expression spelled trouble for 
someone. 

( Meanwhile, on the same morning, Jane also re- 
ceived a letter which made her catch her breath 
in sheer amazement. It was from Eleanor Lane 
land stated: 

"Deab Jane: 

"I've remembered at last. Now I know 
why your name seemed so familiar. Last 
fall a Miss Seaton was staying at the hotel 
with her mother. She dictated a letter to me, 
the carbon copy of which I am enclosing. 
She told me that she was having the letter 
typed for a joke and asked me to sign it 
"Jane Allen.' I knew that wasn't her name, 
because I had heard a bell-boy page her sev- 
eral times and knew who she was. She said 
that you were her cousin and that she was 
only sending the letter for fun, that it 
wouldn't do you the least bit of harm. 

"I didn't like her at all. She was yery 



1 



RIGHT GUARD 279 

hateful and supercilious. I thought at the 
time that the letter was a queer kind of joke, 
but I'd never been to college so I wasn't in 
a position to criticize it. Anyway, it wasn't 
my business, so I typed it and signed it as she 
requested. That's where I saw your name. 
I thought I would send you the letter and 
ask you if it was really a j oke. I f oimd it the 
other day in going over my files and it wor- 
ried me. I realized that I had done a very 
foolish thing in signing it. I should have 
refused to do so. 

"This is the second letter I've written since 
I last heard from you, so hurry up and write 
me soon. With much love, 

"Ever your friend, 

"E1.EANOE." 

The shadow of a smile flickered about Jane's 
lips as she imf olded the sheet of paper enclosed 
in Eleanor's letter and glanced it over. As by 
miracle the means of retaliation had been placed 
in her hands. 

She decided that she would wait only to see 
what the day might bring forth. If by dinner 
time that evening Mrs. Weatherbee had made no 
sign, she would go to the matron after dinner 



28o JANE ALLEN 

with a recital that went back to the very begin- 
ning of her freshman year. She would tell every- 
thing. Nothing should be omitted that would 
serve to show Marian Seaton to Mrs. Weather- 
bee in her true colors. 

If, on the other hand, Mrs. Weatherbee sent 
for Judith, Norma and herself that evening and 
exonerated Judith in the presence of her enemies, 
Jane determined that she would not, even in that 
event, withhold the story of Marian's long-con- 
tinued persecution of herself and her friends. 
Undoubtedly Marian and Maizie would be asked 
to leave Madison Hall; perhaps college as well. 
Mrs. Weatherbee would be sufficiently shocked 
and incensed to carry the affair higher. Jane 
hoped that she would. She had reached a point 
where she had become merciless. 

While Jane was darkly considering her course 
of action, Mrs. Weatherbee was finding Monday 
a most amazingly exciting day. The morning 
mail brought her Edith's letter. Directly after- 
ward she hailed Dorothy Martin as the latter left 
the dining-room and marched Dorothy to her of- 
fice for a private talk. When it ended,' Dorothy 
had missed her first recitation. Mrs. Weather- 
bee, however, had learned a number of things^ 
hitherto unguessed by her. 



RIGHT GUARD 281 

Shortly after luncheon a meek-eyed, plainly 
dressed little woman was ushered into her office. 
In her mittened hands the stranger carried a 
package. Sight of it caused the matron to stare. 
Her wonder grew as the woman handed it to her. 

"If you please, ma'am," blurted forth the 
stranger, red with embarrassment, "I hope you 
won't feel hard towards me. I know I oughtta 
come to you before. My husband f oimd this here 
package in a rubbish can. He works for the 
town, coUectin' rubbish. He foimd it jus' before 
Christmas and brung it home t' me. 

"You c'n see for yourself how the name o' the 
party it was to go to had been all run together, 
so's you can't read it. The package got wet, I 
guess. But your name's plain enough up in the 
comer. I knowed I ought ta bnmg it here first 
thing, but I — ^I— opened it. I knowed I hadn't 
oughtta. Then I seen this pretty silk sack and I 
wanted it terrible. 

"I says to myself as how I was goin' to keep 
it. It wasn't my fault if you throwed it into the 
rubbish can by mistake. My husband he said I 
hadda right to it, 'cause findin' was keepin'. So 
I kep' it, but it made me feel bad. I was brung 
up honest and I knowed it was the same as 
stealin'. 



282 JANE ALLEN 

"But I wanted it terrible, jus* the same. I 
never see anything han'somer, an' it looked swell 
on me. I put it on jus' once for a minute. It 
didn't give me no pleasure, though. I felt jus' 
sneaky an' mean. After that I put it away. 
Once in a while I took a look at it. Then my little 
girl got a bad cold. She was awful sick. I for- 
got all about the sack. She pretty near died. I 
sat up with her nights for quite a while. When 
she got better I thought about the sack again, and 
knowed that Gk>d had come down hard on me for 
bein' a thief. So I jus' got ready an' brung it 
back. It ain't hurt a mite, an' I hope you won't 
make me no trouble, 'csuse I've had enough." 

Mrs. Weatherbee's feelings can be better imag- 
ined than described. The retimi of the missing 
sweater at the critical moment was suflGiciently 
astoimding, not to mention the pathetic little con- 
fession that accompanied its return. She felt 
nothing save intense sympathy for her humble 
caller. 

When the latter took her leave a few moments 
later, she went away wiping her eyes. Far from 
making her any "trouble," Mrs. Weatherbee had 
treated her with the utmost gentleness. The 
stately, white-haired woman with the "proud 



RIGHT GUARD 283 

face" had not only thanked her for returning the 
"sack," she had asked for her hvimble caller's ad- 
dress and expressed her intention of sending the 
little sick girl a cheer-up present. 

Left alone, Mrs. Weatherbee sat smiling rather 
absently at the dainty blue and white bit of knit- 
ting which she had taken from its wrapper. She 
thought she imderstood very well how it had hap- 
pened to stray into the rubbish can. She now re- 
called that the rubbish cans about Chesterford 
and at the edge of the campus were much the 
shape and size of the package boxes used by the 
postal service. Given a dark, rainy night and an 
absent-minded messenger, the result was now 
easy to anticipate. Here was proof piled high of 
Judith Steams' "fatal failing." 

There was but one thing more to be done be- 
fore winding-up simmiarily an aflPair that had 
been to her vexatious from the beginning. She 
had obtained plenty of evidence for the defense. 
Now she turned her attention to the prosecution. 
She had yet to hold a private word with Elsie 
Noble. This she resolved to do directly the fresh- 
man in question had retmned to the Hall from 
her afternoon classes. 

Elsie, on her part, had been looking forward to 



284 J^NE ALLEN 

this yeiy interview with a degree of sullen satis- 
f action. On the day following the scene in Mrs. 
Weatherbee's room, Marian had informed her 
cousin of all that had taken place. As a result, 
£Isie had flown into a tempestuous rage orer hav- 
ing been dragged into the trouble by Marian. 

**Y&uVe got to do as I say, Elsie. If you 
don% you'll be sorry," Marian had coldly threat- 
ened. "'Maiz and I will drop you. Besides, I'll 
tell Mrs. Weatherbee all about that register busi- 
ness. Then she'll believe you list^ied outside the 
dressing-room, no matter how much you may 
deny it." 

"I'll do as I please," Elsie had furiously re- 
torted, and flung herself out of Marian's room. 

Not at all alarmed by her cousin's anger, Ma- 
rian had confidently remarked to Maizie: "'Elsie 
doesn't dare go back on us. She'll do as I tell 
her. She always fusses a lot, then gives in. She 
has no more time for those three prigs than we 
have." 

For once she was mistaken. Elsie had 
changed, though she alone knew it. Her secret 
admiration for Norma had paved the way tp bet- 
ter things. She now rebelled at the thought of 
facing this sweet, truthful-eyed girl with a lie cm 
her own lips. Marian's threat to expose her 



RIGHT GUARD 285 

fault had awakened her to a bitter knowledge of 
her cousin's unbounded malice* She experienced 
a belated revulsion of feeling toward Judith 
Stearns. Jane Allen's explanation of the gown 
incident, scornfully repeated to Elsie by Marian, 
now stood for truth in Elsie's mind. 

Having gone thus far, Elsie next mentally 
weighed Marian's bolder accusation against 
Judith concerning the missing jewelry. Face to 
face with her cousin's utter lack of principle, for 
the first time it occurred to her to wonder whether 
Marian might not know better than anyone else 
the whereabouts of the missing pin and ring. She 
decided to do a little private investigating of her 
own. 

When, at five o'clock on the fateful Monday 
afternoon, the maid brought her word that Mrs. 
Weatherbee wished to see her, she went down- 
stairs to the matron's oflSce, fully equipped for 
emergency. The recital which she indignantly 
poured into the latter's shocked ears was the cli- 
max to an eventfvd djty for Mrs. Weatherbee. 

It may be said to Elsie's credit that she did not 
spare herself or even attempt to palliate her own 
offenses. She made a frank confession of her 
faults and expressed an honest and sincere con- 
trition for them which showed plainly that her 



286 JANE ALLEN 

feet were at last planted upon the solid ground of 
right. She was no longer the "ignoble Noble." 

"After what IVe told you, I know you won't 
allow me to live here at the Hall any more," she 
said huskily. "I deserve to be punished. I'm go- 
ing to accept it, too, as bravely as I can. I've 
been doing wrong all year, but at last IVe come 
to my senses. I know that for once I'm doing 
right and it comforts me a good deal." 

This straightforward avowal would have 
moved to compassion a far harder-hearted woman 
than was Mrs. Weatherbee. The matron realized 
that the' dry-eyed, resolute-faced girl seated op- 
posite her had been punished sufficiently by her 
own conscience. 

"I shall not ask you to leave Madison Hall, my 
dear child," she assured very gently. "I wish you 
to stay on here because I am convinced that would 
be best for you. In justice to others, however, I 
must ask you to come to my room this evening, 
prepared to stand by me in whatever I may re- 
quire of you." 

"I thank you, Mrs. Weatherbee," Elsie said 
with deep earnestness. "I'll be only too glad to 
stand by you. I'm going upstairs now to get my 
wraps and I sha'n't be here to dinner to-night. I 
know Marian will be looking for me as soon as 



RIGHT GUARD 287 

she receives word from you to come to her room. 
It will be best for me not to see her again mitil 
then. Don^t you think so?" 

"Under the circvmistances, I should prefer that 
you hold no conversation with her beforehand/* 
agreed the matron. 

Thus ended the momentous interview. Woman 
and girl pledged their good faith in a warm hand 
clasp, and Elsie left the office feeling like one 
from whose shoulders a heavy burden had sud- 
denly dropped. ' 

^'Where is Elsie?" was Marian Seaton's des- 
perate inquiry, when at five minutes to eight she 
entered her room, following a fruitless search for 
her cousin. 

"Search me," shrugged Maizie. "Very likely 
Weatherbee never said a word to her. I know 
she hadn't as late as limcheon to-day, for I asked 
Elsie and she said 'No.' We're just as well oflF 
without her. She has no more diplomacy than a 
goose. She's been so grouchy all week, that I 
don't trust her." 

"Oh, she's harmless," frowned Marian. "Now 
listen to me, Maizie. If, when we get into 
Weatherbee's room, things don't look favorable, 
we'd better be ready to slide out of the whole busi- 



288 JANE ALLEN^ 

ness. We can withdraw the charge, you know. 
That will end the whole thing/* 

Maizie made no reply, save by smiling in her 
slow, aggravating fashion. She had her own 
ideas on the subject, but she was too indifferent 
of results to express thenu At least, so she be- 
lieved. 

>' Her indifference fell away a trifle, however, as 
|5he and Marian were presently ushered into Mrs. 
Weatherbee*s room by a most stony-faced ma- 
tron. Instead of finding there three girls, a dis- 
turbing fourth was present. Decidedly disturb- 
ing to Marian's peace of mind. 

At sight of Elsie Noble, who sat stolidly be- 
side Norma on the davenport, Marian's face 
darkened. Walking straight over to her cousin, 
she asked furiously: 

"Where were you this evening?" 

"That will do. Miss Seaton." Mrs. Weather- 
bee now took command of the situation. "Kindly 
sit down and allow me to manage this affair." 

With a baleful glance at Elsie, Marian sul- 
lenly obeyed the stem voice. 

"It is not necessary to go into the subject of 
why you are here," began the matron, addressing 
the silent group of girls. "I will proceed at once 
to business. I shall first read you a portion of a 



RIGHT GUARD 289 

letter from Edith Allison, f onnerly Edith Ham- 
mond." 

Taking up an open letter from a pile of pa- 
pers that lay on a small table beside her, she read 
aloud: 

"Deab Mks. Weatheebee: 

"What a shame that such an unfortunate 
misimderstanding should have arisen over 
that imlucky white lace gown of mine. It 
was really a ridiculous mistake all around. 
Jane's explanation, of course, convinced you 
of that. It would never have happened if 
Judy's gown and mine had not been so nearly 
alike. We all had a good laugh over it, when 
Jane finally straightened out the tangle. 

"I can't understand Miss Seaton's not 
knowing about Judy's absent-mindedness. 
It was the joke of the freshman class last 
year. She figured prominently in the grind 
book. I am extremely indignant to hear that 
her honesty has ever been doubted. She is 
one of the finest, most honorable girls I have 
ever known. I am very glad you wrote me 
about this." 

"I shall not read the remainder of this letter. 



290 JANE ALLEN 

as it has no further bearing on the case," an- 
nounced the matron in dignified tones. ^'Miss 
Seaton," she turned coldly to Marian, "Miss 
Noble assures me that she never overheard a con- 
versation such as you attributed to her. I have, 
therefore, drawn my own conclusions. They are 
not flattering to you or Miss Gilbert. I now ask 
you and I demand a truthful answer, which of 
you two overheard that conversation?" 

"I refuse to answer you," snapped Marian, her 
face flaming. 

"I am answered," returned the older woman 
gravely. "The subject of the gown is now closed. 
We will take up that of your missing jewelry. I 
will now inform you that it has been found." 

"Found I" Marian sprang to her feet in pre- 
tended surprise. "Then the person who stole it 
must have given it backl" She cast a malicious 
glance at Judith as she thus exclaimed. 

"Miss SeatonI" Never before had Mrs. 
Weatherbee's voice held such a degree of utter 
displeasure. "You know, as does also Miss Gil- 
bert, the utter injustice of such remarks. You 
know, too, where to look for the jewelry. It has 
never been out of your possession." 

"I haven't it. I don't know where it is." Ma- 
rian's voice rose in shrill contradiction. 



RIGHT GUARD 291 

I = 

**Oh, yes you do, Marian," bluntly diflFered 
Elsie Noble. "The ring and pin are in a little 
white box in the tray of your trunk. I saw them 
there yesterday. I went into your room while 
you were both out yesterday and hunted for them. 
After you showed me how spiteful you could be, 
I decided you were capable of even that. So I 
thought I'd find it out for myself, and I did." 

"Not a word she says is true," Marian fiercely 
denied. "She's an eavesdropper and a mischief- 
maker. She " 

"Mrs. Weatherbee knows all about me," coolly 
informed Elsie. "She knows, too, that I'm done 
with all that. You needn't deny that the pin and 
ring weren't there yesterday. I saw them. You 
may have put them somewhere else by now, 
though." 

"Will you please not interrupt me?" Marian 
had decided to make a last desperate attempt to 
crawl out of the snarl she was in. She fully real- 
ized the seriousness of the situation. 

Addressing the matron, she said brazenly, "I 
came here to-night with the intention of with- 
drawing my charge against Miss Steams. Miss 
Gilbert and I had decided that she was innocent. 
Whoever took the jewelry must have become 
frightened and put it back without my knowing 



292 JANE ALLEN 

it. I will go at once and look in my trunk, since 
my cousin insists that it is " 

"You will kindly remain where you are/' or- 
dered Mrs, Weatherbee tersely. "Later, I shall 
insist on seeing both the ring and the pin. Tou 
and Miss Gilbert will now apologize to Miss 
Steams for the trouble you have caused her. 
You will also apologize to Miss Allen and Miss 
Bennett." 

"I was mistaken about the gown and the jew- 
elry/' Marian admitted with a toss of her head. 
She was addressing no one in particular. "I have 
nothing more to say." 

"I was also mistaken," drawled Maizie imper- 
turbably. Nevertheless a curious look of dread 
had crept into her sleepy black eyes. Matters 
were at their worst, it appeared. Things had 
been stirred up altogether too much for safety. 
Elsie had proved anything but harmless. 

"Do you accept this apology?" inquired the 
matron of the three defendants. 

"I do, provided Miss Seaton promises strictly 
to have nothing more to say in future against any 
of us to anybody," stipulated Judith with quiet 
finality. 

"I will accept it under the same conditions," 
Jane said quietly. 



RIGHT GUARD 293 

•^AncT I," nodded Norma. 

•^Neither Miss Seaton nor Miss Gilbert will 
circulate any more injurious reports about any- 
one," assiu'ed Mrs. Weatherbee grimly. "This 
matter in itself is sufficient to warrant suspension 
from college. 

"I regret that there is still another grave 
charge against you," she continued, fixing the 
guilty pair with a relentless gaze. "I have been 
informed that you. Miss Seaton, are the author 
of a malicious letter signed *Jane Allen,' which 
I received before college opened." 

This time it was Jane who received a shock. 
She had come to the matron's room prepared to 
take up the cudgels in Judith's behalf. Elsie 
Noble's unexpected stand on the side of right had 
been amazing enough. Elsie had certainly been 
the chief witness for the defense. Was it she who 
had told Mrs. Weatherbee about the letter? 

"I haven't the least idea of what you mean," 
Marian haughtily retorted. 

"That's not true," contradicted the invincible 
Elsie. "You know perfectly well that you sent 
that letter to Mrs. Weatherbee. You told me so 
yoiu^self." 

"I did nothing of the kind," persisted Marian. 

"Then how did I know about it?" triumph- 



294 J^NE ALLEN ■ 

antly demanded Elsie. "J mentioned it to Mrs, 
Weatherbee. She never mentioned it to me. If 
I had known then just how spiteful you could be 
I'd never have let you write it. You told me be- 
fore I came to Wellington that Jane Allen was 
a hateful, deceitful, untruthful girl who had done 
you a lot of harm. I know now that she isn't. I 
know that you are. I'm sorry that you're my 
cousin and I don't intend to have anything fur- 
ther to do with you." 

When Elsie had begun speaking, Mrs. Weath- 
erbee had been on the point of checking her. She 
refrained, however, because she realized suddenly 
that Marian deserved this arraignment. She had 
manufactured trouble out of whole cloth; now she 
fully merited her cousin's plain speaking. 

"You have said a good deal about injustice, 
Mrs. Weatherbee. I think it very unfair that I 
should be accused of something which I don't in 
the least imderstand," began Marian, with a fine 
pretense of injured innocence. "I should like to 
see the letter you accuse me of writing." 

From underneath the pile of papers on the 
table, the matron drew forth a typed letter. She 
handed it to Marian without a word. 

Marian read it, then laughed disagreeably. 

**No wonder Elsie knew of it," she sneered. 



RIGHT GUARD 295 

"This is some of her work. She was crazy to get 
into Madison Hall with us. She knew there 
would be no vacancies. I had' told her that. She 
listened to what I had said about Miss Allen, 
every word of it's true, too, by the way, and had 
someone type this letter. After that she applied 
for admission. Very clever indeed, Elsie, but 
you mustn't lay it to me. The signature is cer- 
tainly not in my handwriting." 

It was now Marian's turn to look triumphant. 

"The whole trouble with Elsie is that I threat- 
ened to expose her for eavesdropping," she con- 
tinued. "She has made me all this fuss simply 
to be even. She knows that she is responsible 
for this letter. The fact that she mentioned it to 
you, Mrs. Weatherbee, is proof enough, I should 
say. Certainly you have no proof that I had any- 
thing to do with it, beyond what she says. Her 
word counts for nothing." 

A breathless silence followed Marian's bold 
turning of the tables. Elsie gave a sharp gasp 
of piu*e consternation. 

"Oh, I didn't do it!" she stammered, casting 
an appealing glance about her. "I — ^hope — ^you 
— don't — ^believe " 

"Here is the proof that you didn't," broke in 
Jane Allen's resolute tones. She had resolved to 



296 JANE ALLEN 

come to the defense of the girl who had so sturd- 
ily defended Judith. From her blouse she had 
drawn Eleanor's letter and the carbon copy of 
the letter which Mrs. Weatherbee had received. 

When the latter had finished examining both, 
she looked up and said in a dry, hard voice: 

"This is the most dishonorable affair I have 
ever known to happen at Wellington. I shall 
certainly take it up with Miss Rutledge. There 
is now no room left for doubt regarding the au- 
thorship of this letter. It is undeniably your 
work. Miss Seaton. It remains yet to be discov- 
ered what part Miss Gilbert played in it." 

Without further preliminary, the incensed ma- 
tron read aloud Eleanor's letter. 

Marian Seaton turned from red to pale as she 
listened. Maizie kept her eyes resolutely on the 
floor. This last bit of evidence was too over- 
whelming to be disputed. It could not be ex- 
plained away. 

"What have you to say to this?" demanded 
Mrs. Weatherbee of Marian. 

"Nothing," was the muttered reply. 

The matron had a great deal to say. For the 
next ten minutes she lectured the culprits with 
scathing severity. 

"I shall reconmiend that you be expelled from 



RIGHT GUARD 297 

college. Miss Seaton. Miss Gilbert, were you 
also a party to this affair?" 

"Yes," was the tranquil response. "I knew all 
about it. Can't say I'm very proud of it. Still, 
it's rather too late now for regrets." 

Maizie raised her unfathomable black eyes 
from their studied scrutiny of the floor. Quite 
by chance they met Jane's gray ones. Jane had 
a peculiar impression as of a veil that had been 
slowly lifted, revealing to her a Maizie Gilbert 
who had the possibilities of something higher than 
malicious mischief -making. 

Obeying an impulse which suddenly swayed 
her, she turned to the matron. 

"Mrs. Weatherbee," she said, "can't this affair 
be settled now and among ourselves? After all, 
no great harm has really come of it. The missing 
jewelry has been found, Judith has been exoner- 
ated, I still have my room, and no one except 
those present knows what has taken place here 
to-night. We are willing to forget it if you are. 
I am speaking for Judith and Norma. I am siu*e 
Elsie doesn't want her cousin to be expelled. 
Can't we blot it out and begin over again?" 

"I should like it to be that way," said Judith 
quietly. 

Norma nodded silent concurrence. 



298 JANE ALLEN 

"I'll never forgive Marian, but I'd hate to see 
her expelled," Elsie said, after a brief hesitation. 
"I don't think Maizie ought to be, either. It's not 
half as much her fault as Marian's." 

Perhaps this latest turn of the tide amazed 
Mrs. Weatherbee most of all. For a time she 
silently scanned the group of girls before her. 
She had not reckoned that the defense would sud- 
denly swing about and plead for the defeated 
prosecution. 

"I cannot answer you now. Miss Allen," she 
gravely replied. "I can appreciate, however, 
your generosity of spirit. I shall ask all of you 
to leave me now. Later I will inform you of my 
decision." 

Each feeling that there was nothing more to be 
said, the six girls obediently rose to depart. Ma- 
rian walked to the door, looking neither to the 
right nor left. Without waiting for Maizie she 
made a hurried exit. 

Maizie took her time, however. Her hand on 
the door knob she turned and addressed Jane. 

"You're a real Right Guard," she said in her 
slow, drawling fashion. "Not only on the team, 
but in everything else. I'm sorry it took me so 
long to find it out." 



(CHAPTER XXVII 

CONCLUSION 

AS a result of the events of the previous 
evening, Marian Seaton and Maizie Gil- 
bert put in a very bad day. It began by 
a wild fit of weeping on Marian's part, after 
breakfast and in her room that morning. At 
breakfast she managed to keep up a semblance of 
her usual self-assured, arrogant manner, but the 
moment she reached her room she crumpled. 

"Don't be a baby, Marian," was Maizie's rough 
advice, as she stolidly prepared to go to her first 
recitation of the day. "You brought this trouble 
on yoiu-self . You might as well take the conse- 
quences without whimpering. You'd better cut 
your first recitation. Your eyes are a sight." 

"I'm not going to any of my classes to-day. 
Go on about your own business and let me 
alone," was Marian's equally rude retort. 

299 



300 JANE ALLEN 



Maizie merely shrugged at this announcement 
and went stoically upon her way. She was made 
of sterner stuff than her unworthy room-mate, 
and with the realization that she had betiaved 
very badly indeed, she had now steeled herself to 
accept her punishment bravely. 

Marian, on the contrary, moped in her room 
all morning, went to Rutherford Inn for a lonely 
luncheon and returned to the Hall and her room 
to weep again and ponder darkly over her un- 
happy situation. She tried in vain to prepare 
an argument by which she might clear herself 
should Mrs. Weatherbee decide to expose her 
wrong-doing to Miss Rutledge. She could think 
of nothing that might carry weight. The case 
against her was too complete to afford the slight- 
est loophole for escape. 

As the day dragged on she gave up in despair. 
She made up her mind that her only hope now 
lay in appealing to Mrs. Weatherbee for mercy. 
She resolved to pretend deep remorse arid prom- 
ise a future uprightness of conduct to which she 
had no intention of living up. 

At five o'clock that afternoon, Maizie walked 
in upon the despondent Marian with: "Mrs. 
Weatherbee wants to see us in her room. The 



RIGHT GUAI^D 3or 

maid just told me. I'm glad of it. I'm anxious 
to have the matter settled." 

"If Mrs. Weatherbee tells us that she is going 
to report us to Miss Rutledge, Maizie, we must 
beg her not to do it," quavered Marian. "We 
must promise her anything rather than let her go 
to Miss Rutledge. That's what I intend to da 
and so must you." 

Maizie regarded Marian with the air of one 
who was carefully weighing the cowardly coim- 
sel. All she said was: 

"Come on. We mustn't keep her waiting." 

First glance at the matron's face as they were 
admitted to her room filled both girls with re- 
newed apprehension. She looked more uncom* 
promisingly stem than ever. With a brusque 
invitation to be seated, she took a chair directly 
opposite them and began addressing them in 
cool, measured tones: 

"My original intention was to defer a decision 
of your case for several days, at least," she said. 
"Thinking the matter over to-day, I came to the 
conclusion that the sooner this disagreeable af- 
fair was settled and off my mind, the better 
pleased I should be. 

"Both of you deserve expulsion from college^ 



302 JASE ALLEN 

I am sure tliat 3Iiss Rotledge would be of tiie 
nme opinioa were I to lay the matter before her. 
Frankly, I bave decided nol to do so simply on 
acoount of !&Iiss Steams and Miss Alkii. These 
two young girls hare diown tfaemsehres great 
enough of spirit to OTerlook the injury you faave 
endeavored to do tbem. This has made a marked 
impression upon me, so great, in fact, Ihat I have 
determined not to report this very disagreeable 
affair to Miss Rutledge. Since it has occurred 
at the Hall and has no bearing on any one out- 
side the Hall, I feel that I am justified in settling 
it as I deem wisest for all concerned. 

"The fact that you are both young girls, also, 
has something to do with it. In my opinion it is 
a very shocking matter for a young woman to 
be expelled from college. You have been under 
my charge for almost two years, and I feel in a 
measure responsible for you. On this account 
and because Miss Steams and Miss Allen have 
interceded for you, I shall not inform Miss Rut- 
ledge of yoiir dishonorable conduct. 

**For the remainder of the college year I shall 
allow you to continue under my charge at the 
Hall. When you leave Madison Hall in June, 
however, it will be with the understanding that 
you cannot return to it the following autumn. 



RIGHT GUARD 303 

you must make arrangements to live at another 
campus house." 

Thus far neither girl had heen given the least 
opportunity of speaking. As it happened, neither 
had the slightest desire to speak. Both were feel- 
ing too intensely relieved for words. First to 
recover from the good news that she and Maizie 
would escape the pimishment they merited, 
Marian Seaton now said with a faint touch of 
asperity: 

"Why won't you allow us to come back to 
Madison Hall next year, Mrs. Weatherbee ? We 
prefer it to any other campus house. If we give 
you our word of honor to let Judith Stearns and 
her crowd alone, isn't that sufficient?" 

"No, Miss Seaton, it is not. I repeat that you 
must make other arrangements for next year. 
One thing more and we will conclude this inter- 
view. You must both pledge yourselves to good 
behavior while you are here. If I hear of any 
attempts on your part to malign a fellow student, 
either by word or deed, I shall revoke my decis- 
ion and put your case before Miss Rutledge. 
Nothing except absolute fair play on your part 
will be tolerated here. That is all. You are at 
liberty to go." 

Fighting back her anger, Marian arose, and 



304 J^SE ALLES 

with a stifF, ''Thank you, Mrs. Wcadmbee," 
walked to the door. She was csongratiilatiiig her- 
self that she had not been forced to ask favors 
of that "liard-hearted old trrant." 

Maizie rose, but made no attonpt to f oDow 
Marian* Instead she raised unfathomable black 
eyes to the matron and said: 

'^You are kinder to us tiian we deserve. I 
thank you*'* 

Then she turned abruptly and followed Marian 
from the room. 

Back in their own room, she walked over to 
her bed and sat down on it and eyed Marian re- 
flectively. 

"Well, what's the matter with you?" asked 
Marian crossly. "You make me tired. Why did 
you say to that old dragon that she'd been kinder 
to us than we deserved? It wasn't necessary. 
The idea of her turning us out of Madison Hall. 
And we can't do anything to stop her, either. 
She has the whip hand and she knows it. It's a 
positive outrage and the whole aflPair is Elsie's 
fault, the hateful little hypocrite. She'll be sorry. 
I'll never rest until I pay her back for this." 

"It strikes me," drawled Maizie, "that there's 
been altogether too much of this 'paying back' 



RIGHT GUARD 305 

business. You'd best drop it, Marian. You axe 
not a success in that line. As for me, I'm tired 
of it. JL used to think it great fun and exciting, 
but now I know that it's petty, mean and un- 
worthy. If I could be as true to myself as Jane 
Allen is, I'd be happy." 

''Jane Allenr exclaimed Marian in exaspera- 
tion. "I hate the very sound of her name. I sup- 
pose now, since you seem to admire her so much, 
you'll begin running after her." 

"No, not yet," was the tranquil response. 
"Perhaps never. I don't know. I'm going to 
stick to you for the present. I've been a party 
to yoiu* schemes and it wouldn't be right to desert 
you. But from now on, I am going to be fair 
with these girls. I warn you not to come to me 
with any plans of yours for getting even with 
them. I won't listen to them. If you are wise 
you won't make them. But you won't be wise. 
I know you too well. Only don't count on me 
to help you. The old Maizie is dead. I don't 
know what the new one's going to be like. I'll 
have to wait and find out." 

"You're a big goose," sneered Marian. "I 
never thought you'd be so silly. And all on 
account of tiiat priggish Jane Allen. She's " 



3o6 JANE ALLEN 

"She's a fine girl," declared Mai2de with an 
ominous flash of her black eyes. "I only wish 
you and I were more like her." 

Meanwhile, in company with Judith Steams, 
the objects of Maizie's newly discovered admira- 
tion were on their way to Mrs. Weatherbee's 
room. Immediately Marian and Maizie had de- 
parted, the matron had sent for Jane and Judith. 
For an hoiu* they remained in friendly and very 
earnest conclave with Mrs. Weatherbee. When 
at last they left her, it was with the feeling that 
everything was once more right with their little 
world. 

The instant the door of their own room closed 
behind the two, they expressed their emotions by 
clinging to each other in joyful embrace. 

"Thank goodness, it's come out all right!" ex- 
claimed Judith. "We'd never have felt quite 
comfortable if Mrs. Weatherbee had taken it 
higher. Marian and Maizie would have been ex- 
peDed from Wellington, that's certain. It is 
enough punishment for them to have been told 
that they couldn't come back to Madison Hall 
next year and wouldn't be aUowed to stay here 
for the rest of this year only on the promise of 
strict good behavior." 



RIGHT GUARD 307 

"I can't feel sorry about that part of it," de- 
clared Jane. "I think we are justified in being 
glad that Marian Seaton wiD be in another cam- 
pus house next year. To tell you the truth I 
wouldn't mind Maizie's being here. She's a 
strange girl, Judy. There's a lot to her beneath 
that lazy, indifferent manner of hers. I'll never 
forget the way she looked when she turned to me 
and spoke about my being Right Guard." 

"She looked as though she'd been asleep for a 
long time and then had suddenly waked up," 
nodded Judith. "And Elsie Noble! I can't get 
over the way she turned around and stood up for 
us. Just to think, too, she told Mrs. Weatherbee 
that it was Norma who had made her feel as 
though she wanted to be different. And Norma 
never even knew how much Elsie admired her." 

"It shows that a person who does right and 
thinks right is bound to influence others without 
ever saying a word," Jane said reflectively. 

"Yes, that's so," Judith agreed. "One never 
knows how much every little thing one says and 
does is going to impress others. I shaU have to 
be pretty careful how I behave in futiu-e. My 
fatal failing's likely to land me in penetentiary 
yet, if I don't reform," she added with a giggle. 



3o8 JANE ALLEN 



"You'll have to learn to distinguish between a 
rubbish can and a package box, Judy," laughed 
Jane. 

During the confidential talk with Jane and 
Judith, Mrs. Weatherbee had told Judith all 
about the missing sweater and its amazing return 
into her hands. 

"It wouldn't have happened if some one hadn't 
moved that rubbish can up near the package 
box," asserted Judith. "It was so dark, and rain- 
ing so hard I didn't stop to look. The lids of the 
rubbish can lift up on each side from the middle, 
you know. Of coiu-se, if I had my mind on 
what I was doing it wouldn't have happened, but 
I didn't. 

"Mrs. Weatherbee didn't say so, but I'm sure 
she must have thought that the sweater Aunt 
Jennie made me was the missing one," Judith 
opined. "Honestly, Jane, I believe if it hadn't 
been for that, she never would have listened to 
Marian Seaton's accusations against me." 

This surmise on Judith's part was, of course, 
largely correct. In telling Judith of the incident 
of the sweater, the matron had made no mention 
of her own private suspicions. In reality she was 
ashamed of them but could not bring herself to 
sacrifice her dignity by admitting the fact. This 



RIGHT GUARD 309 

had influenced her to leniency in the case of Ma- 
rian and Maizie. She felt that she, too, had heen 
secretly at fault in the matter* 

"I dare say she wouldn't have," Jane smiled. 
'^Between you and me, Judy, I think this affair 
has taught Mrs. Weatherbee quite a lot about 
girls that she didn't know before. She seemed 
kinder and more gentle to-night than IVe ever 
known her to be. Perhaps it's been a good thing 
all around." 

"I guess it has," concurred Judith. "It's set 
Elsie Noble on her feet, waked Maizie Gilbert up 
and put Marian Seaton on her good behavior for 
a while. We'll have no more trouble with her this 
year. We can rest easy on that score. What 
«he'U do next year is hard to say. As soon as she 
gets into another campus house and away from 
Mrs. Weatherbee, she'll probably start in to do 
something to bother us. Only next time she'll be 
more careful. She'll never change, you know. 
It's not in her to be different." 

"Well, I'm not concerned about next year or 
Marian Seaton either," emphasized Jane. "We 
have too many pleasant things to think about. 
We've got to practice hard and beat the freshmen 
in the next basket-ball game. If we beat them 
this time, it will be a complete whitewash for 



3IO JANE ALLEN 



them. We must do it, too. I intend to prove my- 
self an invincible Ri^t Guard in basket-ball at 
least'' 

"'Tou're a faithful old Right Guard all around, 
Janie/' was Judith's affectionate tribute. ""Next 
year, I predict you'll be playing Center on the 
team, and Center in the hearts of the Wellington- 
ites. You may not believe me, but you're the only 
girl I know who'll be able to fill Dorothy's place 
here. You'll be as much a power for good some 
day, perhaps even more, than she's been." 

'"If I could be half as fine and splendid as 
Dorothy is I'd be satisfied. I know I can't. All 
I can do is to keep on trying," was Jane's earnest 
avowaL "I'd love to play Center next year on 
the team, but that's not for me to decide. I may 
not even make tiie team. If I do, I'll be content 
with that. Just Jane Allen, Right Guard, is 
honor enough for me." 

How far beyond her modest aspirations Jane 
was destined to go, not only in basket-ball but in 
other respects as well, will be told in the next vol- 
imGie of this series to be entitled, "Jane Allen: 
Center." 

THE END 



THE JANE ALLEN COLLEGE 
SERIES 



By EDITH BANCROFT 



12mm. Illustrated. With cover inlay and jacket in colon 



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^ ofthe 
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This series is a decided departure from 
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modern college for young women. An 
authoritative account of the life of the coUege 
girl as it is lived today. 

1. JANE ALLEN OF THE SUB TEAM 

When Jane Allen left her home in Mon- 
tana, to go East to Wellington College , 
she was sure that she could never learn to 
endure the restrictions of college life. 



2. JANE ALLEN: RIGHT GUARD '^ 

Jane Allen becomes a sophomore at Wellington College, but 
8he has to face a severe trial that requires all her courage and chat^ 
acter. The result is a triumph for being faithful to an ideal. 

3. JANE ALLEN: CENTER 

Lovable Jane Allen as Junior experiences delightful days of work 
and play. Jane, and her chum. Judith, win leadership in clasa 
office, social and athletic circles ot Sophs and Juniors. 

4. JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 

Jane Allen's college experiences, as continued in "Jane Allen, 
Junior," afford the chance for a brilliant story. A rude, country 
girl forces her ^y into Wellington under false pretenses. 

5. JAKE ALLEN: SENIOR 

Jane and Judith undertake Social Service, wherein they find 
actual poblems more thrilling than were those of the "indoor 
sports.*^ 

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the north, east, south and west cf the vols' 
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Patsy Carroll succeeds in cxMudng ber father to kase one of the 
luxurious camps at Lake Placid , for the summer. Established at 
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are the center of a mystery which revolves about a missing wilL 
How the girls solve the mystery makes a splendid story. 

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Patsy Carroll and her three chums spend their Easter vacatiofi 
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